


Dear Santa

by Calypphire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Vernon Dursley, Child Abuse, Child Draco Malfoy, Child Harry Potter, Child Neglect, Embarrassed Petunia Dursley, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Lucius Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Pansy Parkinson, Good Severus Snape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Meddling Albus Dumbledore, Mild Language, Molestation, Multi, Original Character(s), Other, Severus Snape Has a Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calypphire/pseuds/Calypphire
Summary: Harry writes a letter to Santa, which ends up in the hands of Severus Snape.This story was inspired by a plot bunny summary by Trickster32, livia6269 and TheColor9Rate M out of caution.  Warnings and tags will be added as the story progresses
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 136
Kudos: 348





	1. Written Letter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trickster32](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trickster32/gifts), [livia6269](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livia6269/gifts), [TheColor9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheColor9/gifts).



> As mentioned within the summary this story under the same title "Dear Santa" came from reading through some old plots that were gifted to me by Trickster32 a good while back, and I am taking a bit of a risk in seeing how this turns out.
> 
> The story went away from the original summary/plot idea, though, as in the original thought bubble Harry sent the letter by post mail, that got changed, as you will see below, should you choose to continue.
> 
> **Warning abuse elements within, beginning with the very first chapter.**

Chapter 1  
Written Letter

“Mummy! Mummy! Can I write my letter to Santa?”  
Petunia gushed and smiled at her son, Dudley, all excited for the appending season that was leading to the much anticipated Christmas day.  
“Of course, my Duddykins!” she answers.  
The plump six-year-old boy grinned broadly, as his mother went to go and get the coloured paper and an assortment of crayons, coloured markers and pencils that he could use.  
It didn’t matter if this was his fifth or sixth time in writing to the jolly man in red, whatever Dudley wanted, Dudley got! That was the way it was in the Dursley household.

“May I write one?” Little Harry asks shyly.  
There was a loud snort and a sneer, causing the small boy with messy uncombed black hair to jump a little; something that caused delight in his Uncle Vernon.  
“You? Why would Santa want anything to do with a pestilent little freak like you?” the large man with no neck spits.  
Harry murmurs, shuffling his feet where he stood, hands behind his back, not really looking at his uncle. “Everyone else gets to write letters, why can’t I?” I don’t want to be too much of a bother, but I don’t want him to forget about me.”  
“Santa doesn’t bother with ungrateful, naughty freaks!”  
“But I have been trying really hard to not be! Really, Uncle Vernon!” Harry insists, ignoring the glee on his cousin’s face, who was watching the scene. “But, Santa is magic and -”  
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

The little boy suddenly felt himself smacking against a wall, clutching his stinging cheek, tears starting to stream from the pain, the fright and the feeling that he had once again made his Uncle mad for a reason he didn’t understand.  
All Harry had said was Santa being magic, and...  
“I WILL NOT HAVE YOU SPRAY SUCH NONSENSICAL SHIT IN MY HOUSE!”  
Again the tiny boy felt something going against him; he crouched, holding his tummy, where the fist had landed.  
“HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT FILTH IN FRONT OF MY BOY?”  
Harry was pleading for his Uncle to stop, crying that he didn’t mean it, that he will be good.  
Aunt Petunia had entered back in with the fancy paper and good markers and crayons, including stickers and stamps, she said not a word to stop her husband at first, going over to Dudley, smiling lovingly and setting him up to do his wanted task.  
“Remember that we have guests coming, Vernon,” Petunia then decides to peep, but not before the beast of a man kicked the already huddling boy. “Best to put him in the attic, dear, instead of the cupboard.”

Finally remembering himself, Vernon stops, clears his throat and straightens himself, peering with the same twisted snarled at the quivering and crying Harry.  
“Get up!” he growls, grabbing the six-year-old by the back of the ratty old shirt, dragging him to his feet and forcing the boy up the stairs, paying no attention to the sounds of pain, muttering all sorts of words under his breath, but not at all stopping Harry from hearing them.  
Trudging down the hall, pulling on Harry’s arm, Vernon reached the door to the attic and wrenched it open, looking like it was going to come off the hinges, and shoved the boy on to the first step.  
“Go on! Get up there!”  
Harry nearly stumbles, still very much in pain, having trouble standing straight.  
“Y-yes, Uncle Vernon,” he whimpers, turning to go up each step, with the huge man following to make sure he did as he was told.

When they had reached the top, Harry felt the large hands of Uncle Vernon shove him, causing the boy to flay his hands out, landing hard on the wooden floor, if there had of been dust, it would have created a cloud affect, but since Aunt Petunia detests any speck of dust and dirt in the house, including the attic, there was none.  
Vernon then circled and faced Harry, grabbing a chunk of the messy, dreadlocked mop of hair, pulling, nearly ripping hairs from the roots, Harry yelped.  
“Now, you will keep your smutty, shitty, abnormal trap shut! We’re hosting a dinner party and later tonight with some of the parents from the school, along with Dudley’s friends, if anyone asks, you’re with Mrs Figg. If I catch even a hair of you down with the rest of us, you will be in even more trouble than you are now!  
“To make sure you understand how much trouble, I’ll give you a little taste!”  
Before the six-year-old could so much as protest, he felt a large hand seize his baggy trousers and shoved into the material and...

When Vernon was satisfied, he dropped the boy and stormed back down the stairs, slamming the door shut, bolting it.  
Harry stayed in a foetal position, shaking and weeping, still as muddled as before. He didn’t understand... All he wanted was to write Santa a letter!  
He didn’t know how long he had been on the same spot, but he soon plucked up the courage to see if he could move, despite the searing pain throughout his little body; clenching his teeth, stifling his sounds, not wanting Uncle Vernon to come back and... and...  
Looking around, he could see that everything was in its place.  
Many old items, and some of the things that Dudley had either destroyed or grown tired of in the short amount of space of getting whatever the item was.  
Notwithstanding his curiosity, Harry looking though some of the boxes and drawers, being extra, extra careful to put everything back in its place – he didn’t want Aunt Petunia to scowl at him, and have any more reason to be in trouble.

To his surprise he found an old Crayola caddy, it was given to Dudley from the Christmas before this one now approaching. All of the paint was no longer in it– Harry remembered that he and Dudley were in the lounge room, while Petunia and Vernon were in the other room, leaving the two alone, to where his cousin knocked over the paint capsules, making a mess on the carpet, and the larger boy started crying out and pointing at the smaller, which had the adults coming darting in and Harry was thrown into the cupboard after a good solid whack from Uncle Vernon’s belt, he wasn’t let out until the middle of the following day.  
Many of the crayons, textas and pencils were missing, broken or dried up because the lids were no longer on top of the texta they belonged to, but he was able to use some of them to write that letter to Santa, especially when he found some paper and envelopes next to it.  
Checking over his shoulder to be sure no-one was coming, though he could hear the commotion downstairs, guests were starting to arrive and get the party started, Harry snatched old caddy, paper and envelopes, darting to where he was able to get a better lighting to see, doing his best to ignore the pain, how his tummy hurt... and so did his head.  
Harry took the first best looking crayon he could find, which was a dark green one, and began to write.

To finish, he put the address of where he lived, before folding the paper as neatly as he could and fit it into the envelope; “Dear Santa” he wrote on it. But he didn’t know where to send the actual letter to, but... Santa was magic! Surely there was a way? Right?  
Oh... how his tummy hurt, his vision wasn’t so good... he had to send the letter to Santa, and he didn’t want to anger Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon by leaving the attic, especially now with all the guests and the sun going down.  
A single tear was rolling down the little boy’s face, as he lie down on the harden floor, clutching the letter.  
Maybe having a bit of a lie down might help.  
As he started to weaken, the envelope slipped out of Harry’s hand and unseen by him, got swept up and flittered out of a crack in the window, where it was snatched up by a passing owl.

###

Casting his eyes about the small area that made up the living area, Severus Snape exhaled heavily, it was the end of the first semester for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he really, really wanted to be out of that castle, though it meant being back at the home he grew up in.  
The townhouse in Cokeworth was the only place he really knew to call home, other than Hogwarts, even if the memories of both were mixed and marred with jagged thought of what he ought to have done, should have done and the feeling of this impending heaviness wouldn’t be so bad.  
The distraction of teaching the students of Hogwarts was helpful, but Severus wasn’t up to the festivities and monitoring the halls with his colleagues, not this year. He was spoken to by McGonagall and Dumbledore, trying to convince him to no avail.

The living area was filled with mix match couches and armchairs, lines and lines of books on shelves, two of the shelves slide aside, the first would reveal the stairs that would lead up to the two bedrooms and bathroom, the other would take him to the combined kitchen and dining area, that would also lead to the small courtyard, where a shed would be, plus a door heading down to a basement from the kitchen.  
Some of the things were original, others were added or refurnished to suit Severus’s own personal tastes, to try and erase some of the hurt, while keeping the fond.  
As he was about to close the door, a gush went straight passed him, where he followed the blurry mass of feathers.  
“Arianrhod,” he speaks, between surprised, annoyed and amused.

The long-eared owl gives him a look of ‘what’ after she had landing in the middle of the coffee table, dropping the envelope she had in front of her.  
“Whose mail did you collect this time?” Severus asks, strolling over and picking the light blue envelope and saw “Dear Santa” written in childish handwriting.  
“You and your ‘Dear Santa’ letters!” he comments, with a suppressed chuckle when he looks at the owl who was still maintaining her innocent appearance.  
Arianrhod knew her master very well, too well, as this wasn’t her first time in collecting such letters upon this time of year, much like she knew what happens when her Master receives them.  
Every year since he was sixteen, a good month before he was to be seventeen, Arianrhod began to collect such letters that were addressed to Santa, (with the occasional Easter Bunny). At first, Severus would ignore them, putting them aside, unopened, (also making sure no-one found them, either). After a while the temptation was too great and he chose to open one of them, curious as to what was written.  
The first one was almost pretty standard; a little boy asking for a toy fire truck.

Severus opened and read them all and there was this pulsation in his heart, racing in his brain and all the memories of the Christmases he has had in his childhood, wishing and wanting for things to happen, or to get, only to get them dashed time and time again. It wasn’t to say he was ungrateful, if anything, his loved that his mother tried everything she could to make the holiday season a joyous occasion for him, and she did, doing a little extra effort for his birthdays a couple of weeks afterwards; yet he still remembered thinking that if he could do something that was worthwhile during this time of year, he would, no matter how small it was, even with all the shit that has happened over the years, he just wanted this little light.

It was with that Christmas coming on ten years ago to now that Severus would do something when it came about these ‘Dear Santa’ letters, he would find out where they had come from and well... let’s just say some pretty happy boys and girls were all he needed to hear about around the place, especially when he hears of the anonymous gift giver of the few lucky children who did get a visit from Santa... and perhaps a few ‘unlucky’ who were on the ‘naughty list’; Severus wasn’t going to just do anything if the person didn’t deserve it, including children, a lump of coal or socks and a letter pointing out why such a dismal gift.  
So when he took the light blue coloured envelope and read the writing, Severus shook his head a little, before opening it to read it;

>   
>  Dear Santa,  
>  My name is Harry Potter, and I am 6.  
>  I want a family who loves me.  
>  My real Mummy and Daddy died in a car crash.  
>  I am a good boy, I think, but, I don’t know because my Aunt and Uncle don’t think I am.  
>  My Uncle really hurts me, calls me a freak and he really hurts my tummy when he kicks me there.  
>  It hurts bad.  
>  Aunt Petunia hates me. Let’s Uncle hurt me. My cousin gets me in trouble a lot.  
>  I can do a lot, cooking, gardening and even cleaning the house.  
>  I want a Daddy, who reads with me, tug me in and calls me his little boy.  
>  I can't do anything against those freaky accidents.  
>  I'll try, but it happens all the time, and then I have to spend days without food and water into my cupboard  
>  Please, Mr. Santa - I just want a home, nothing else.  
>  Kind Regards Harry Freak Potter.  
> 

The sudden feel of something heavy dropped to the pit of his stomach when he read the letter. A myriad of feelings flurrying within his head, comprehending on who had written the letter and what was being said.  
Severus had made a promise; he was going to keep it.  
Quick as a flash, Severus changes into something more fit for a Muggle – ever helpful when he was half-blood and knew of Muggle attire – and set out to apparate to Surrey.

He found Privet Drive in no time, noticing his owl had managed to speed her way over and landing right on top of the roof of the house with the number 4 on the door and mailbox. The entire outer of the house was meticulously decorated.  
Arianrhod was perching right at one of the windows and tapping on the glass, flapping now and again, almost as though trying to get attention.

Not really thinking after this point, Severus marched over to number 4 Privet Drive, where he could hear laughing and chattering inside.  
Staring at the letter still clutched in his hand, remembering what he saw from his own owl, and this sense within his very gut, the wizard knocked hard upon the wooden door.


	2. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus finds Harry...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have stretched the hospital policies a bit...  
> Hopefully I did okay here.

Chapter 2  
Rescue

Waiting for a few seconds, Severus knocked again, louder this time.  
He was going to knock for a third time, only the door was wrenched open and the appearance of a skinny blonde woman with horse teeth, wearing a nice Christmas cocktail dress was bought before him.  
Her eyes widened at the sight of him.  
“What are you doing here?” she demands in a way that was doing all she could to not bring attention to them, never mind they were at the front door.  
Severus presses his lips to form a tiny bit amusement on surprising the woman he knew to be Lily Evan’s sister.  
“I am here to check up on Harry,” he answers politely.  
He shows her a letter he had pulled out to show her; an official looking letter from some department within the Wizard world, (she didn’t need to know that it was actually fake).

“He’s not here!” the woman says still in the strained tone. “He is with Mrs Figg, one of our neighbours.”  
Severus’s brows go up, expression of not at all buying it; he could tell she was lying.  
“Petunia, I strongly suggest that you allow me to see the son of your sister at once, or else I will have to do something that would truly oust you to your guests that you are a fraud.”  
“Hey, Petunia! Who’s at the door?” bellows the booming voice of a large man with a moustache, who had now shown himself beside Petunia. He catches side of Severus in his dark muggle clothing, frowning deeply. “Who the fucks are you? Bit old to be a carol singer and even if you were, I’d be telling you to fuck off!”  
“He is here to see the boy, Vernon,” Petunia mutters, peering over her shoulder, toward where the noise from the guests were gathered, then motioning her eyes to the stairs that would go toward the higher levels of the house.  
Vernon’s face turned a shade of purple at this, and barks in a low growl; _“There is no other boy here! He’s at the neighbour’s house! Go look there! Now piss off, we have guests!”_

He was about to slam the door, only Severus had already put his hand up to stop this, keeping a calm demeanour, but his dark eyes were soul piercing, Vernon near on yelped loud enough for the noise to suddenly stop, and some of the people who were closest to the door were staring to see what the commotion was.  
“Vernon, who’s the bloke,” asks one of the men, a father to one of Dudley’s friends, and to the Dursleys personally.  
“I am here to cheek on Harry Potter, who resides here, it is part of the Department’s best interest that the welfare of the child is checked up upon,” Severus replies before either Petunia and Vernon could speak, making it up on the spot, but hey, he was concerned with what he read in the ‘Dear Santa’ letter and he wanted to know what was going on –consequences be damned later. “Now, I suggest that you direct me to the child in question at once.”  
“What evidence do you have?” Vernon demands, face still as red and purple as ever, frantic to not have this man enter his home, about to block any effort to try.  
“What do you have to hide?” Severus redirects. “Surely if you really cared for the boy and as equally concerned for his wellbeing, you wouldn’t be hesitating and right in front of your array of jollying guests, I can assume that a boy of Harry’s age oughtn’t be missing out on the fun?”

There was a loud screeching sound coming from wherever above, Severus could hear his owl being distressed now.  
“Where is Harry Potter? You will show me to him now!” the Wizard demands, speaking in such a way that caused Vernon to know damned well that there was no way of stopping a man like him... especially...  
“He... he’s in the attic...”  
The slow movement from Vernon and Petunia moving aside was enough for Severus to be able to pass through the threshold, following the large man up the stairs and all the way to where the door to the attic was.  
“He... he’s up there!”  
“Why do you not have him join in on what is happening downstairs?” Severus inquires.  
Vernon didn’t answer, Severus saw something flicker through the dull coloured eyes and very quickly darted right on up the stairs and when he reached the landing, located first the rattling sounds of Arianrhod by one of the windows – the one she was at the moment she had returned to the house with him – and right below, lying on the floor, motionless was...

Hurrying over, Severus’s hand rested on the small boy, he was extremely underweight for a boy of six years old; his black hair was muttered and unkempt; the bruises old and new were noticeable under the too big of baggy clothes.  
Gently, the young man checked for a pulse, it was so weak, but there was something of a fight going on, trying to hang on, feeling the breathing through the boy’s nose and mouth, his small chest going up and down, but slowly.  
“I’ve got you, Harry, I’m going to make sure you get help,” Severus tells boy.  
He could have sworn he saw Harry’s eyes slowly creak open, displaying his magnificent green eyes, which caught sight of the man with black shoulder length hair and hooked nose, but he saw the care he didn’t know was possible from anyone, let alone a stranger.  
A stranger who knew his name.

Harry didn’t speak, for his eyes closed again, grimacing, wanting to move.  
Severus stops Harry from doing so by picking him up carefully, but not before taking his jacket off and wrapping him in it.  
The Wizard could have apparated then and there on the spot with the boy, but no... he decided to walk down the stairs of the attic, right on past Vernon, (giving the man a glower of pure venom as he passed) and down to the floor level, where Petunia, Dudley and the party guests happen to be.  
Many gasps and murmurs arose from the scene; a tall man in mostly black, carrying an unconscious and battered little boy.  
“You said he was with Arabella, Petunia,” spoke one of the women.  
“He must have snuck away when we weren’t looking,” Petunia tried, her face full of contrite and embarrassment.

Severus was having none of it.  
“Oh you know full well where your nephew was the entire time, Petunia Evans! Do explain why this boy is covered in bruises that are no normal for a child to have? He will be going to the hospital right now and I strongly suggest that you have a good story... I am sure your guests would love to know every juicy detail of how you allowed a child to be treated like this in your own home... and I know you’re the type that likes to keep up appearances... as I remember you very well!”  
As the realisation starts to click in for Petunia, Severus takes Harry out of number 4 Privet Drive and goes to the closest hospital he could access. He could have gone to St Mungo’s, but he knew of how to get around to accessing the Healers who were less likely to tip off anyone until it was really necessary, especially since this was the Boy-Who-Lived. The fewer flurries Harry was under right now, the better, in Severus’s mind.

Marching into the Emergency Room of the Hospital, there was no time wasted in having the boy seen to.  
“What is the boy’s name?”  
“Harry Potter,” Severus replies. “Do you know if Doctor Elias is in? Or Doctor McCoy?”  
“I can go and check,” one of the nurses replied, a little surprised by the request for specific doctors. From what Severus could judge she must be new, he wasn’t sure, right now, he didn’t care, as he was caring more for the little boy now on the hospital bed, being attended to.  
A different nurse remained with the questions: “Are you the boy’s father?”  
Severus shook his head.  
“When did you find him?”  
“I found him unconscious at his guardian’s home while attending a party they were holding.”  
“Where are his guardians? Are they here?”  
“Thank you Nurse Byrne, I’ll take it from here,” spoke a man of average height and build, wearing the scrubs and signature stance of a doctor.  
Severus displayed an expression of relief upon seeing him: “Doctor Elias.”

Doctor Naveed Elias gives an assuring smile. He had skin that looked like caramel and hair that was between really dark brown to almost black, and eyes that just had this calming glow behind the hazel irises.  
“Hello Severus, it is good to see you,” he does say, before turning toward the real subject of what was going on at the present moment. “Talk to me, what is the status?”  
“Sir, his heart is going between erratic and weak, then stable, it’s all over the place, and we really need to give him a full exam.”  
Doctor Elias takes full control: “We are going to have to get this boy to more private vicinity to do that, and obviously a new bed for this bay, so is to be able to continue treating whoever needs it, and may still be in waiting. Nurse Byrne, help in getting the new bed ready, while Nurses Irvine and Wright will come with me.”  
“I’ll see myself out,” Severus anxiously chimes.  
“No!” Doctor Elias rebukes. “I’ll explain later, but you are going to staying here in the hospital; if anything, you are going to need to come with us.”  
Severus understood and followed behind the medical team that was transporting the bed that had little Harry.

They were soon within a special room, where both magic and muggle were able to collaborate in perfect harmonised sync – something the Ministry of Magic detested and have been trying to keep a lid since it was discovered back when Thomas Edison was able to turn on the light bulb, even further.  
The hospital they were in was one of a few that existed to be able to help those with both, and be able to make it so those who shouldn’t know were none the wiser. For those who did, such as Severus, that was a different story all together.

Once the door was closed, Doctor Elias and his selected pair of nurses began to do their work, while Severus sat in a chair in a corner, to stay out of their way. He was unable to actually see what they were doing, as there was a special shield that stops him from viewing the patient while the examination was carried out.  
Wands were pulled out, but so were the tools to keep an eye on Harry’s heart and other vitals – and it wasn’t too long before each and every single bruise, cut, scar and other injury was found and placed.

Severus could see from Doctor Elias’s eyes, (as his mouth and nose were covered), as well as Nurses Wright and Irvine, that things were rather worrying.  
“Harry has internal bleeding in his abdomen; we’re going to need to prep him now to stop it.”  
“Don’t you need permission to do that?” Severus pipes up.  
“Harry has lost the connection to the place he was living; if we don’t do this now, he will most likely die,” Doctor Elias said straight out.  
“What connection?”  
Dr. Elias assured that he will explain if he is able to get the chance to, but his priority was to the patient, Harry was in a very vulnerable state and he needed this done now!  
Seeing Harry’s life was of more importance, Severus didn’t object, if anything, he told them to do what they could to save him and to keep him updated.  
“Please! I... I just want to make sure that he will be okay... even if he doesn’t... I...”  
With an understand glow within his eyes, Dr Elias nods and sets about prepping Harry for the surgery he was going to be undergoing.

###

Never had he thought his heart would pound the way it had been; almost as though it was going to burst right on out of his chest. It certainly didn’t help with the butterfly feelings in his gut, either. Severus was trying all he could to keep himself distracted while he was waiting in the little waiting room, with nice comfortable chairs and old magazines on the coffee table.

He tried to go as far as reading one of those magazines, but gave it up because it was utter junk and gossip. Like... who really cares about Tom Cruise and his escapade on acting as some hot shot pilot for that movie, whatever it was called? Or whichever star was getting married again for the however many times this was now – and these were printed back in June! What was he even doing back then; testing students, grading papers and enduring another end of year feast before summer holidays, nothing that exciting.

Severus almost lost track of time, he didn’t even know that he had even dozed off when he was near on startled by when his name was called by Dr. Elias.  
“The surgery went well, we stopped the bleeding, as well as mended every fracture and untreated wound that we were able to attend to; Harry will be staying in the hospital for a few days to keep him closely monitored and if all goes well, he will be released once we find him a suitable home for him.”  
“What do you mean?” Severus asks.

Dr. Elias explains: “Harry has no legal guardian to speak up for him, and we had and have a sworn duty to uphold to give any and all patients the care they need.” The moment he was starting to lose his life and also when he taken from wherever he was living, was the moment he was no longer calling it home, because of this he had lost the connection that was keeping him there.”  
“How... how bad were his injuries?”  
“Pretty bad,” said Dr. Elias.  
“How bad are you talking?”

The Doctor sighs, shaking his head. “There is only so much we can disclose, I did allow you access to the transmission room, yes, but there are things that we -”  
“If I decided to sign whatever papers in having the boy come into my care, saving you from looking for a home, when I have one that would include what he needs, would that allow for such information to be given?”  
Severus didn’t even know what had possessed him to speak up, but deep down he just couldn’t allow the son of Lily go off to some place to be forgotten about again.  
A glimmer of a smile reached Elias’s eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”


	3. Harry wakes up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up to meet his rescuer, and learns a little about himself and his parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **warning: may be a slight trigger within this chapter**

Chapter 3  
Harry wakes up

Groggy, confusion, funny feelings going all over his little body, Harry woke to the sound of beeping, the sense of mild pains, but weren’t as bad as they used to be, and to discover that he was not in the attic of his Aunt and Uncle’s home, instead he was lying on a bed with clean sheets – well they used to be clean by the feel of them – in a room that had extremely clean walls that would make Aunt Petunia’s feel like she was living in a pigsty, but also covered in characters that were aimed for children, such as Humpty Dumpty and woodland creatures.

Harry began the attempt to move.  
“Easy,” he hears a voice he had heard before, only this time it was of vigilant concern, instead of the anxious shock just before he had really blacked out. At least, he could have sworn he heard the voice.  
A tall man who was wearing dark clothing and sporting black shoulder length hair and hooked nose was at his bedside.  
“Where am I?”  
“You are in hospital,” Severus replies, gently helping the six-year-old to a more comfortable position, so it allows him to sit up without putting too much strain on his little healing body.  
“Why am I here? Where are my Aunt and Uncle?”  
Severus had been preparing for such questions.  
“You are here because you were hurt really badly, the doctors and nurses have done all they could to ensure that you are now on the mend, especially after all that had been found, so much so that you will not be going to back into the care of your Uncle and Aunt.”

Harry stares at him with his green eyes, surprised by this.  
“But... my Uncle will be really mad if I -”  
“If you what?”  
The little boy squirms, not looking at the man, not sure whether he ought to speak.  
“You are safe, Harry,” Severus assures.  
“How do you know my name? Who are you?” Harry jumps on this, as though to divert the conversation.  
Patience was a virtue, Severus reminds himself: “My name is Severus Snape, you may call me Severus. I know your name because I used to know your mother, we were once friends when she was alive, I made a promise that I would look out for you in case of anything happening to her and your father.”  
Harry listened, doing his all to process what was being said.

“You knew my Mum?”  
The man nods, a split moment of pain glinted, before resuming the mutual mask.  
“Did you know my Aunt Petunia, too?”  
“I did,” Severus confirms; no need to lie. “Petunia and your mother lived in the same area as I when we were younger.”  
“So, you know that she died in a car crash?” said Harry. “My Mum, I mean.”

Oh, how that hurt like a nasty wasp sting to the soul. Severus did read that in the Santa letter, and was truly ticked off by the sheer lie of it. Why Petunia would tell her own nephew a fable of what happened to her sister, and then allow that beast of a husband to do what he had done to the boy, and do her own sort of abuse and neglect on top of that...

He was fairly unsympathetic when he caught wind that their son, Dudley, had been taken from them and placed into a temporary foster home, upon fears and worries that Vernon had done similar to the same to him, as they had done on Harry, despite Petunia swearing black and blue that Vernon would never hurt their ‘Duddykins’, and that all of the treatment on Harry was a huge misunderstanding.

Of course much to Severus’s chagrin Dumbledore had something to say about it. Saying something along the lines of Harry needing blood relatives and whatever other bullcrap that was to keep Harry in the hands of the adults who were meant to be caring for him.

When the old Wizard was told of the reasons for taking the boy out of Privet Drive and away from the Dursleys, the phrase: “Just because you don’t like how some forms of disciplines are used, doesn’t mean you need to take the child away from a loving home.” Dumbledore went very quiet when Severus returned that with: “To the point where a child was left with internal bleeding and massive bruises and broken bones, heavily malnourished? You took it upon yourself to meddle and left the son of your precious Marauder and Lily in the hands of brutes to die!”

Good thing the paperwork had already been sorted and arranged, because all guardianship was shifted straight on to Severus when every single document and copies were signed, dotted and the required spells that couldn’t be broken, unless death or legal consent was granted by the named guardian, (or guardians, if more than one).

Dumbledore hadn’t replied after that, but Severus didn’t bother to go and chase him down, his responsibility was to Harry, now.  
“Harry, I do not know how much you have been told, or not told, about your parents, or even about yourself, but I can say that your mother and father did not die in a car crash,” Severus tells the boy.  
Harry stares at the man. “But that’s what my Aunt Petunia said. Why would she say that if it was a lie?”  
Severus shakes his head, sympathetic to Harry’s confusion, (and still angered by Petunia’s insult): “I do not know.”  
“How did they die?”  
When did this subject come up so quickly?

Again, not wanting to shirk away from giving Harry the information he needed, and wanting to gain his trust, Severus answered in a way for the six-year-old to understand: “Your parents were killed by someone really bad, he tried to hurt you, too, but he couldn’t. That is how you ended up being with your Aunt and Uncle.”

Silence was the response met by the child, propped up against the pillows upon the bed, being monitored by the special machines that were between magic and Muggle, so only the quiet beeping was heard for a good moment.  
The Wizard was about to say something, perhaps words of comfort, or whatever may have decided to form within his mind and form to be spoken, only for Harry to return looking at him and asking if it was because he was bad.  
This horrified Severus to hear; then remembering the letter he had received from this very boy.

“ _No_ , Harry!” he replies firmly. “What that man did was not because you were bad; you were only a baby when it happened.”  
Glistening of tears, Harry’s little lower lip trembled. “But... My Uncle says it’s because I am a freak they were dead! Aunt Petunia said it was my fault! Things happen and I don’t know why, and they’re always mad at me!”  
“You are not a freak, Harry, you are a Wizard and your Aunt and Uncle are the ones who are at fault for what they had done to you!” Severus counters, staying firm, but soothing at the same time, putting an assuring hand on Harry’s little clenched fists that were clamped together, scrunching the sheeting that were covering his legs.  
The little boy almost flinched, but when he saw that this gesture was out of kindness and this man was speaking the way he had always wanted to be spoken to, Harry eased a little.  
“What is a Wizard?” his little voice cracked, sniffing back and wanting to know.  
“A Wizard is someone who can do magic,” Severus answers. “Your father was a Wizard and your mother was a Witch.”

“But, my Uncle and Aunt said magic wasn’t real, and they hurt me and not give me food if I say stuff about magic,” Harry whimpers. “Uncle even hurt me really bad after I said Santa was magic, I asked to write Santa a letter, because Dudley got to write another one, but my Uncle got mad at me, he really hurt me after I said Santa was magic, put me in the attic when Aunt Petunia told him to. He... he told me to be quiet, because they had guests, and then he... he said that if I didn’t keep quiet he’d make me pay, and he... he put his hand down my pants, and... He told me he’d rip me a new one, as he... It hurt!”

Hearing what this child had to say was overwhelmingly gut wrenching; almost as worse from when Severus had been informed that Harry had been violated and he had a minor tear in his anus from being penetrated quite roughly; substantial, but still significant.

_“We’re going to have a mild dose of child friendly stool softeners to help ensure that it doesn’t become much more than what it is, plus we’ve given the correct potions to prevent infection. We’ll be prescribing a special balm and potion for Harry to take over the next few days,”_ he can recall.

What had also been given was a bit of truth telling potion; Severus remembered this to be a bit of a debate, it would have been slightly beneficial for Harry to start the process of gaining any sort of courage to speak, even if he wasn’t fully aware, until now, for fresh tears were streaming down his little cheeks, remembering it as though it had happened just moments ago, instead of whenever it was ago.

“You will not have to worry about Vernon harming you ever again, Harry,” Severus assured, carefully wiping one of Harry’s cheeks. “When the Doctors say it is okay, you will be coming home with me.”  
A little hiccup escaped when Harry stares. “But, do you want me?”  
“I made a promise to look out for you, and I don’t break the promises I intend on keeping. You are not a freak, Harry, you deserve to be in a home where you are allowed to be you, and... I suppose I would like a little extra company, so why not a child who asked Santa for a home where he is wanted?”  
Harry couldn’t help but gasp. “S-Santa got my letter?”  
Severus gives a smile and nods.  
“But... I thought Santa only gave on Christmas Day.”  
“Not all gifts need to be directed on Christmas day; which is less than two weeks away,” Severus counters, still smiling.  
Harry wasn’t sure how long two weeks away was, but he was certainly feeling a lot less fearful than he was before.


	4. Sorting things out

Chapter 4  
Sorting things out

As much as he did not want to leave Harry, Severus had little choice, firstly because he really needed to freshen up, meaning he needed a decent shower and clean clothes, having to be hanging around the hospital for the many hours he had, only ever stepping out to get a bit of fresh air in between paperwork signing and keeping tabs on Harry, and when Harry woke up, making sure the boy was overseen to in whichever way possible.

“I promise to be back very soon,” Severus assured, before pulling out his wand and tapping the tip on the cup of water, changing it to an hourglass with multicoloured sand within, which caused Harry’s green eyes to widen with amazement.  
The boy had been shown small amounts of this ‘magic’, (and had been able to make a little more sense as to why things have happened around him, especially when he was upset and scared – the soul reason why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were forever going off at him, (which obviously led to more extreme things)), but any little more of it caused Harry to light up with glee.

“Let’s see if I can beat the timer. If I do not come back before the sand reaches the bottom side of the hourglass, you get to pick what we get to do when I return. But if I come back before the timer, I get to choose, but I can promise that you will like the choices.”  
With that, and the nurses giving Harry a couple of colouring sheets and little colour pencils to occupy himself with, Severus did not waste time.  
He had three hours – or less if he can beat the sand.

Getting to Cokeworth was nothing, for he Apparated, going straight into his townhouse home, where Arianrhod was upon her perch, helping herself to owl snacks, (she hooted her greetings, where it was received with an affectionate scratch at the back of the head, where she gave Severus a soft nip).  
First thing Severus did was dart on upstairs to where the bedrooms and bathroom were, going to his room and grabbing fresh clothes and within less than five minutes was exhaling deeply in the shower when the steaming hot water hit him squarely.  
Not needing to take more than two minutes, Severus was out and dressed and moved his way to the second of the bedrooms, which hadn’t been used since he had transferred to the main bedroom. There was nothing within except a single old bed that really wasn’t fit for anyone, especially not a child. The reason for this was Severus hadn’t the reason to use this other room up until this point, and he was the type of person who would use things out of practicality and need, the bare minimum – except in the case of potions making and anything associated, for it is sometimes best to overcompensate than be without.

Thinking how to approach this, Severus thought of what he learned so far about Harry; other than the hell he had gone through. This was how he got some ideas, not wasting any more time Severus was out the door and straight to a furniture store.  
The salesperson did try to talk the wizard into going grand and large and more expensive than needed, only to be shot down when shown the catalogue that displayed what Severus was after for much less than what was being offered.  
Disgruntled, but really wanting the sale to go through, the salesman made sure that the bed frame, (and mattress), wardrobe and bedside table were delivered to Spinner’s End to arrive first thing in the morning.  
“And I will be chasing this down should it not arrive by nine o’clock,” Severus promised.  
From a different store Severus found a handsomely made three tier bookcase made from solid oak and a desk.  
Now that those were sorted out, he checked the time before going to the one store he made sure he went to before returning to Harry.

###

“The sand got to the bottom before you got back,” Harry chirps shyly when he saw Severus.  
“Indeed,” said Severus, the corners of his mouth pulling back. “That means you get to choose which game you would like us to play.”  
He shows the single backpack in his hand.  
Harry perked up: “Game? I was never allowed to play games, except at in school, and only when the teachers made the kids play with me, because Dudley didn’t like me to have any friends, saying that I am too dumb to have any. Will I be going back to school?”  
Severus had sat on the end of the bed, minding Harry’s feet, unzipping the bag when he heard this.  
“You may be going to school; it probably will not be the one who were going to while you were in your Aunt and Uncle’s care. Also, I think it is best that we put that nonsense out of your mind, you are allowed to play games, and some games are a learning tool.”

With keen interest Severus showed Harry a selection of three different games; Connect 4, Chutes and Ladders and Backgammon.  
“I also got these to help pass the time in the next couple of days in here.”  
He pulls out a walkman with two cassette tapes, two activity books with fresh colouring pencils and grey leads, and two reading books; one was a picture book, the other was a little thicker, but it looked interesting from the cover.  
“The walkman is mine, which I am letting you borrow, so I will ask that you take really good care of it,” Severus tells Harry.  
“I will,” said Harry, wanting to prove himself.  
“The two cassettes are yours, though; I wasn’t sure what music you liked, so I had to guess and made two mixed tapes.”  
This did surprise the six-year-old a little, staring at the two cassettes in their glossy containers. He had never, in his entire life, something that would always go to Dudley.  
“May I decorate the covers?” he asks, noticing there was nothing on the cardboard inserts.  
“I don’t see why not, maybe after we’re done with our game?”  
“Okay,” said Harry.  
“Also, they might be a bit big, but they ought to fit you much better than the old things you were wearing when I found you, plus I am sure you would like something much more than hospital clothes?”

From the backpack were two sets of brand news pyjamas and some brand new day clothes, including underwear, socks and under-vests.  
“May I try something on now?” Harry blurts out, only to quickly apologise for being rude.  
“You were not being rude, Harry, you’re being excited and it is very normal to act that way at times. This is one of those times. I believe that it would be nice to see how they fit, so we can have an idea on what to look for in terms of sizes and comfort. Also I think the Nurse did recommend that you have a proper shower today, since all you’ve had so far was sponge baths.”  
“Can we still have our game?”  
“After you are showered and dressed,” Severus agreed.  
With some help Harry was able to undress and get into the shower once the water was at a nice comfortable temperature.  
“Oh, wow! I like this!” the boy exclaims with pure joy and wonder.  
“You’ve never had a shower before?” Severus asks, furrowing his brows. He made sure he was still giving Harry privacy, but staying within supervision length and in case of any further aid the boy may need.  
“Not like this. I was never allowed to use the hot water, I could only use the cold, because Aunt Petunia said that I would only waste it, and Uncle Vernon would sometimes use the hose on me and say that I ought to be grateful to be given a clean.”

Hearing this just gave Severus another reason to want to visit these people when he had the possible chance.  
“Have you ever had your hair properly washed?” Severus carefully asked; he couldn’t help but notice that there was nothing natural with the messy dreads, though there had been some work done since his arrival at the hospital, mostly a good comb and a bit of potion that would help take out the grime and dirt that was just caked on the boy’s scalp, not to mention the head lice – which were promptly bombed out, so the boy was no longer scratching up a storm once they were all gone right down to the last nit.  
“Not that I remember,” Harry answers. “I would try, but I am only ever allowed to go for as long as the timer, and once that goes, I have to get out, or else.”  
There was no need for Severus to ask about the ‘or else’ part; instead he offered to help the boy by giving the hair a good scrub.  
“It will make your hair feel better, even more than when we got the lice out.”  
“I would like that very much, please.”

After the good scrub down from hair to toe, Harry dressed straight into a pair of his new pyjamas, liking the Christmassy theme and it was very comfortable.  
As promised, Severus and Harry began a game, one that was chosen by Harry; the game chosen was Connect 4.  
While playing, they pair would go back and forth with questions and answers, and doing more in getting to know one another, especially helpful for Severus, as he had a bedroom to construct for when Harry was given the green light for release from hospital.  
Mostly now to make sure that Harry’s surgical areas were not catching infection, the areas of assault were healing, (including the poor boy’s bottom), and that he was eating without getting sick, due to being so underweight for someone his age, which has prompted other concerns from the medical staff who were assigned to look after Harry.  
When they had finished the game, where it was best out of five, (where Severus won three to two), Harry was curious on the two reading books that had been bought.  
“I do not know how well you can read, so I bought this one to help you practice on the words, also I thought you might like the pictures,” Severus explains, hand on ‘Green Eggs and Ham’ by Dr. Seuss: “Whereas this one” showing the copy of ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ by C. S. Lewis “perhaps, if you like I could read to you before bedtime? Well, before I have to leave tonight in this case, but when you leave the hospital and we start finding a routine, this one where these sorts of books can be read over time and, maybe, you might try and read them yourself, or out loud to me, to help you with learning to better read.”

“Did... did Santa tell you about my letter?” Harry asks quietly.  
“More or less,” says Severus. “Would you like me to read as much as I can before I have to go?”  
“Yes, please, Severus!”  
There were no more questions of Santa and how Severus learned how much Harry would like to have someone read to him, he just got comfortable enough to listen to the adventures of Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy.  
When 8pm came around, it was time for Severus to depart again, (which he truly didn’t want to do), told Harry that he will be back at about nine in the morning.  
“That is when the big hand is touching the twelve and the little hand is pointing at the nine, also the sun will be up,” Severus says, pointing at the clock on the wall. “Nurses Tracy and Jenny will be in for the night, and I believe Healer McCoy is on shift, too, and you are going to need some sleep, because I believe they want to monitor on how you are sleeping during the night again. Also, a couple of people will be coming by who would like to talk to you.”  
“Who?”  
“People who want to know a little more of how you were being kept while living with the Dursleys,” said Severus. “You are not in any trouble, nor are you ever going back, which we have established.”  
“What does established mean?”  
“It means something that now well known” said Severus.  
“Why do they want to talk to me?”

Severus hesitated, he didn’t want to lie, nor did he want to frighten Harry.  
“Your Aunt and Uncle have done some bad things to you, Harry, and they are looking to be in very big trouble because of it. The people who would like to talk to you only want to know what you have to say; also find out what more of you may need that can help you, too.”  
“Why?”  
“Because you may need some extra help, which is not a bad thing, Harry, rather the opposite. I want you to be able to know that you can cope and grow and find ways to be happy. I know that your parents would like you to be safe, too.”  
Harry understood as best as his little mind could, and nodded.  
“See you in the morning, Severus,” he says.  
With a kind smile, Severus returns the phrase before leaving.

###

Bright and early, the purchases Severus had made the day before had arrived as expected, and it took him no time to have the room arranged to fit everything perfectly, the only thing that needed to be done was putting on some clean sheets and put away all of the clothes and few books Severus had gotten for Harry, just wanting them to be waiting for him when he was able to see his room for the first time.  
After adding some Christmas decorations and a little tree, Severus was pretty pleased with it all, and he was able to get to the hospital early.  
He reached Harry’s room, only for his stomach to drop upon entering the room.

“ _What_ is going on here?” he demands.  
Harry was curled up as tight as he could go on the bed, whimpering and crying tears, in the room was a man wearing midnight blue wizard robes and purple travel cloak, sporting long silver beard and hair and half-moon spectacles, with him was none other than Petunia Dursley.  
“Uh... Severus! Glad you came!” said the older man.  
“Of course I would be; I told Harry I would be, given that I am now his legal guardian! _That_ woman has no right to be here, Albus!” Severus snaps, going straight over to the sobbing little boy, his dark eyes piercing at the blonde woman, who quivered at them.  
Harry lifted his head when he felt a hand on him, and quickly sat up and flung his arms tightly around the dark haired man, telling him that he didn’t want to be taken back to Vernon; Severus began rubbing Harry’s back, comforting him.  
“But, Petunia is his family, she has the right to see him,” Albus Dumbledore quietly protested. “But the moment he saw her, Harry started crying and doing this!”

“That’s because this woman has allowed her husband to beat the utter crap out of Harry since the day he entered their house! It is amazing that he had survived for so long! Even worse that she would starve him and harm him, too. Something I am very sure Lily would be mortified to know that her own sister would do such a thing to her son, whereas if it was in reverse, Dudley would be well looked after as though he was their own!”  
The reaction was like a slap in the face to Petunia.  
“Albus told me that I had every right to be here, to see Harry and to convince him to -”  
Severus was having none of it, slamming a button that would signal for a Nurse to come by.  
“The mere _fact_ that you want your nephew in the presence of a _paedophile_ is something that I cannot fathom! The _gall_ that you, Albus, would _dare_ ignore your duty to keep the welfare of this boy, not doing a proper job in looking out of him; why else do you think I had done what I had?”  
“You have no legal right to be here,” said a voice then came from the door, sounding fractious and appalled.  
Petunia’s face paled when she saw who one of the new visitors was.  
“Colleen!”

A woman with a well trimmed bob cut, perky nose and wearing a dress suit looks at Petunia, and her lips were pursed.  
With her was a male, who was wearing a suit and had a receding hairline, but Severus recognised him, as he was part of the Ministry of Magic.  
They had been accompanied with a Nurse, who had come in after the buzzer was rung and saw why.  
“We do apologise,” said Dumbledore, politely. “Mrs Dursley wanted to check to see how her nephew was going.”  
“You were specifically informed that you were to go to Mr Snape with anything concerning Harry and his welfare!” the Ministry of Magic member shot at the older wizard, not at all pleased. “That includes anyone who wishes to see him! Especially knowing that there are some who really are forbidden to see, let alone approach, the child.”  
“Forgive me for trying to find a way to make amends, Travis,” Dumbledore put his hands on either side of himself, as though he was innocent.  
“Harass this boy again, and I will have you arrested,” said Travis, then looks at Petunia. “While you could have your memory scrambled, if you do not wish for that, leave.”  
Petunia didn’t need to be told twice, her cheeks still burning at the sight of Colleen, she walked as quickly as she could out of Harry’s hospital room; Dumbledore wanted to protest, but was shown the door.

“They’re gone now, Harry,” Severus told the crying six-year-old.  
“We are so sorry that happened,” said Travis.  
“If all goes well, you will be able to be discharged tomorrow morning,” said the Nurse, kindly. “We will also check on how they were able to get past,” she adds to Colleen and Travis.  
“Thank you, that would help,” said Colleen.  
“Did you hear that?” Severus asks, managing to get Harry to pull back to face him better.  
Harry gave a tiny nod, sniffling and wiping his wet eyes and cheeks with one hand.  
“Who are you?” he then asks Colleen and Travis.  
“My name is Travis Boot, and this is my friend, Colleen McGregor,” said Travis, with a kind smile. “I believe Severus would have told you that someone would be coming by to speak to you?”  
Harry nods.  
“Would you like to answer some questions? Or would you like to just listen first?” Colleen asks.  
Harry looks at Severus, unsure of what to do.  
“I don’t know,” he says shyly.  
“Perhaps if we tell you a little more of why we would like to talk to you, you might be more okay in talking, okay?” Colleen suggests.  
“Okay,” says Harry, still shy, but more open to that idea.  
“I won’t be going anywhere, Harry,” Severus assured.

Travis Boot and Colleen McGregor took gentle care when speaking to Harry and Severus; there were some questions and Harry answered as best as he could, and Severus wasn’t going to beat about the bush on his part, which was extra helpful, especially on how he managed to come across the boy and his condition in the first place.  
When Harry heard about the owl, he looks at Severus with surprise.  
“Santa uses an owl?”  
Severus thought quickly. “Santa sends out for helpers, because he is usually very busy around this time of year, so some times he asks for others to collect wishes on his behalf. My owl, Arianrhod helps me help Santa.”  
Travis and Colleen hid little knowing smiles; why spoil the boy’s beliefs?  
“May I meet Arianrhod?” Harry asks.  
“When you are out of this hospital,” Severus promised.  
Harry beamed.

When the two Members of the Ministry were satisfied, Severus and Harry were left alone.  
Severus had more and more reasons to be ticked off, but more and more reasons why he was mighty GLAD that Arianrhod intercepted the letter when she had, and his decision to take on the boy.  
At the moment, Harry is simply being fostered by him; to be sure he had a guardian/speaker on his behalf for until he was of age, or if someone else came to give him a forever home.  
It was here, even after a few days where Severus was debating whether to accept this child fully, or let him go on to a new home... he didn’t know what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darn it, Dumbledore, you had to waltz on in, didn't you?


	5. Out of Hosptial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is given the clear to leave the hospital and go with Severus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Warning: might be a small trigger or so***

Chapter 5  
Out of Hospital

Severus stayed with Harry during the night, for the poor boy was afraid of unexpected visitors again.  
“The man with the beard said that I wasn’t meant to know about the Wizard world until I was to get my letter for Hogwarts, and that I should have been more respectful to my Uncle and Aunt, or I wouldn’t have been in trouble,” Harry sniffed.  
‘ _To which the child would likely be severely traumatised, if not dead by then_ ,’ Severus thinks to himself, before saying. “Well, the man, whose name is Albus Dumbledore, was wrong to have said that. You have every single right to know who you are, and where you come from, plus to the simple fact that you are never at fault for the abuse you have gotten from your Aunt and Uncle! Not ever.”  
“Aunt Petunia wanted said that she would make sure Uncle Vernon would not hurt me again, and that if I didn’t say anything, she would make sure Dudley included me with his friends, and... and maybe other stuff... telling me to not go ahead with talking more about what happened to me.”  
Harry had said this all before when Travis and Colleen were there, but it was hard to not repeat it, trying to understand what he was told and why. Severus stayed patient and would assure and explain whenever it was needed.

“What is Hogwarts?”  
A question Severus had not gotten until now, he was surprised it took so long to even be asked.  
“It is a school for Witches and Wizards.”  
“Did you go there?”  
“I did. So did your mother and father.”  
“Will I be going to Hogwarts?”  
“Most likely,” said Severus. “But not until you have turned eleven.”  
“Why?”  
Severus shakes his head. “I do not know why it was made for age eleven, but it’s just how it is.”  
Harry accepted the answer.  
“I am also a teacher there,” Severus decided to say.  
“You are?”  
“Yes.”  
“What do you teach?”  
“Potions; it’s very different to wand magic.”  
This helped to skirt away from the subject of Dumbledore and the Dursleys, as Harry seemed rather interested in this subject called Potions, and the many other subjects that was taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The more Harry asked about the different subjects that were taught at Hogwarts, which would include some of the branches within, such as different types of potions, transfiguration spells and so forth the more Severus gave in a manner that would help the boy understand what he was saying.  
“But where will I go if I am not to be at Hogwarts yet?” Harry did ask.  
Severus had been thinking long and hard on how to bridge that obstacle.  
“I would say a regular school, like you have been before, but I am unsure yet, we shall figure that out. I only know is that you will not be going to the school you used to go to.”  
Harry had a rather worried look on his little face; uncertain on the concept of going where he didn’t know if he would fit in, or not.  
The realisation of his post really had Severus thinking, what was he going to do when he was to go back to Hogwarts for the New Year and complete the second semester?

Supposed he could bring Harry with him, but he was worried on the impact of having people gawking at him when he was still rather fragile, didn’t matter if the-Boy-Who-Lived was famous before he could even remember why, he was still a child and needed to be protected; perhaps one of the only time Severus may have agreed with ‘the great and wonderful’ Albus Dumbledore, but now there was this dilemma, all because of the audacity to allow the very same child to live in the conditions he had, knowing full darn well what was going on, still saying nothing, and worse tried to interfere just hours earlier.

It took a good while for the Potions Master to think of one idea, though it made his heart hammer a little when he did, but what else could he do? He needed help, using a quill and parchment when Harry had finally fallen asleep, Severus Snape wrote and wrote and wrote until he was finally satisfied with what he was able to say and using a special charm, released the letter, neatly scrolled up and tied with a specially chosen ribbon and wax seal, out until it was able to reach outside of the hospital, where Arianrhod flew and scooped it up and flew off to the destination where it was to be posted.

All there was to do now, was wait, in the meantime, Severus got as comfortable as he could in the cushy armchair and nodded off to try and get some shut eye.

###

When Harry woke up the next morning he was pretty nervous about what was to happen next. He knew that after he had his breakfast and was dressed into his new clothes, that would actually fit him, and so long as the Doctors were happy with things, he would be going with Severus.

Harry had grown to like Severus very much over the few days of getting to know him. Being spoken to with a tone he didn’t know was possible, except for a couple of teachers who weren’t friends with the Dursleys to disregard Harry’s torture, and learning more of things that he didn’t understand why he was never told about before.

Sitting up, he saw that Severus was awake, sipping from a polystyrene cup and reading a book.  
“I don’t like those cups, they’re bad for the animals,” the six-year-old peeps softly.  
Severus pulls the cup away, looking up at Harry. It did not go unnoticed on how the dark haired child flinched after his spoken words, not looking at him, seeming to debate whether he oughtn’t to have said anything.  
“Unfortunately, it was all the hospital could offer,” he does concur, then with a small curl of a smile, pulls his wand out and tapped the side of the cup, before Harry’s green eyes, the polystyrene changed into porcelain.  
“Cool,” he says.  
“Where did you learn about the cup hurting animals?” Severus asks out of curiosity.  
“My school was teaching about how we needed to watch what we are doing, because things could really hurt the trees and animals if we don’t take care. But, I am not really sure how to do that, only in little bits... at least I try to, I don’t want to hurt the animals and trees.”  
Hearing such a small child have a consideration for something much more bigger than he is, such as the environment, living within it, had Severus really think of how much he may have thought of such things at a similar age, he couldn’t even remember having too much of a worry toward what was thrown on the ground, but he did have to think of how to survive as best as he could from his father’s wrath, and whatever other influences he was dragged under, oh how he regretted some of the choices he made.  
“I guess any little bit to try and help the trees and animals is still what counts,” the Wizard decides to say, to encourage the boy and his young hopes.  
Harry smiled at that.

Breakfast was bought in, which gave way to the subject of getting a move on to be checked up on to see how well Harry was progressing so is to be able to release him.  
The boy couldn’t wait to wear the clothes that he was given, fitting almost perfectly, they were still a tad loose, due to his tiny frame, but it was heck of a lot better than what he had been forced to wear while living back at Privet Drive.  
Dr Elias couldn’t hide his pleasant smile when he finally did give the green light after what felt like forever to get to the conclusion.  
Harry was very mixed emotions over the ordeal of leaving the hospital, knowing that he wouldn’t be going back to his Aunt and Uncle’s, instead going to be with Severus Snape.  
Severus did not want to risk using magical transport with little Harry, even if it would have saved time, instead he decided to use the Muggle system, for he wanted to take a small side trip with the boy – having the Doctor’s approval for it.

Witnessing Harry’s eyes darting to and fro about the place while they were going by train and for small parts by taxi, being super quiet and uncertain, Severus could see how overwhelming this might actually be to the child, and was consciously starting to doubt this little outing before taking him to his new temporary home.  
“We’re in need to do a couple of things before we go to my house,” Severus tells him once more.  
The travel did feel like it has taken a while, but it really was not, for the pair had reached the destination sooner than Severus had expected, and smiled quietly when he watches young Harry’s face go into awe at the clothes shop they were standing in front of.  
“We’re going to get you your own new wardrobe,” the man tells the boy. “I only got a few things that I think you might like, but you are going to need more than a couple of shirts and trousers.”  
“Are you sure?” Harry asks.  
“We wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

At first, Harry did not know what to look at first, let alone try on; never having the chance to be allowed to pick his own things before, always having to be made to wear Dudley’s old things, being told that he wasn’t worth Uncle Vernon’s pay check – and Vernon would use this as an excuse to...  
“Are you alright?”  
The question snaps Harry back into realising that he was just standing there, near a rack of assorted printed shirts; he isn’t sure how to speak the words, just looks at Severus with a small grimace that highlighted the split-second memory lapse, where Severus caught a meagre glimpse.  
Going down to his level, Severus speaks softly, using a silent charm that causes only them to speak to each other, while no-one else could hear;  
“Has he touched you before the night I found you?”  
Harry’s tiny shoulders go up, his head going down, which had him staring at the ground, his little lips quivering.  
“I was not allowed to say anything. It hurts when he touches me... said once he... um...”  
Severus composed himself as best as he could muster when he watches Harry use his pointer finger from one hand and puts it to the round circle he made with his thumb and finger of the other hand, telling him exactly what had happened.  
_That bloody explains..._ Severus thinks to himself with realisation to what the Doctors have explained to him over the extent of little Harry's internal scarring and more.

“Aunt Petunia said that I was being bad, that I shouldn’t make stories up, but I was bleeding, she was mad about it getting on the carpet and locked me in the cupboard for the rest of the day and night... and she screamed at me for the mess in the cupboard that I made, and Uncle Vernon hit me for that, too.”  
“Did... did they ever have you seen by a Doctor?”  
Harry shook his head. “I never saw one until you took me to the hospital to see Doctor Elias and the nice nurses.”  
He was trying to self-sooth by rubbing his hands over the tops of his arms, looking anywhere but Severus, feeling horrible, feeling...  
“I don’t want to go back to them,” he whimpers.  
Normally Severus would ask first, but he acted on pure knowing by pulling Harry in and holding him firm, feeling him tremble and sob.  
“We can always do this another time, if you wish to just go home. By home, I mean my home, which would be your home,” Severus suggests. “There are other clothes waiting, so they can do until you are ready to try this again.”  
He feels the tiny head rubbing against his shoulder in the motion of a nod.


	6. Tenderheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus shows Harry around his home

Chapter 6  
Tenderheart

“Welcome to my home,” said Severus, opening the door, allowing Harry to enter first.  
Harry looks around the living area, seeing the lines and lines of shelves, the mix-matched chairs and tables.  
“Looked bigger on the outside, I only see this room,” he muses aloud; his hands were fidgeting, nervous.  
“The area here is of my own fixed design,” Severus tells Harry kindly, wondering over to the first of the places where he pulls aside a hidden bookcase that revealed the stairs going up. “The bedrooms and upstairs bathroom are up this way. Would you like to see your room?”  
Harry nods. His little face was still a little pink from his crying earlier, but had calmed down significantly.

Going up the stairs, Harry took in his new surroundings, doing his best to not feel his hammering heart. He trusted Severus, but he was afraid of it being taken away; when his little green eyes lay upon his new room, the hammering turned to swelling.  
He could that there was a wardrobe and a set of draws beside it, a desk that was in front of one of the two windows of the room, the bed, (which was neatly made), stood beside the other one, with a night table next to it, sporting a lamp and a silver frame. There was even a bookshelf and a nice colourful rug with shooting stars and crescent moons on it. The walls were bare, but still homey and a far cry from the cupboard underneath the stairs where he was forced to call a bedroom every night.

“It hasn’t been fully decorated, given the timing I had to refurnish, but I’d say in time it’ll be to where you’d be rather comfortable,” he hears Severus saying.  
“I’ve never had a bedroom before,” Harry replies without thinking.  
It still stung whenever Severus was reminded of that little factor.  
“Would you like to have a look around?” he offers: “To see where the things I did manage to find for you are placed?”  
“Okay.”  
Harry was shown where his clothing was kept, from the jumpers and coats in the wardrobe to the pants and underwear in the drawers, the bookcase did have a couple of books, including the ones Severus had bought to the hospital to be read to the boy, lined up neatly, alongside a few ornaments and toys among them.  
One toy in particular caught the little boy’s eye; it was a soft brown bear with a smile on his face, white belly which had a big red heart in the centre. It was brand new, sitting perfectly in the middle, right in his line of sight.

“Is... is he for me?” he nervously asks.  
“Yes,” Severus answers. “I remembered you telling me about these Care Bears, and how you would sneak around to try and watch them whenever you could, saying how much you liked them. I also have this belief that no child should be without at least one teddy bear or sentimental toy.”  
“What does sentimental mean?”  
“Another way of saying treasured or well cared for.”  
“Oh.”  
“Please note that I could not remember if your favourite bear, or if you had a favourite out of them,” Severus does add.  
“Well, Tenderheart is one of my favourites,” Harry replies, he was careful in pulling the Care Bear from the shelf, softly running his little hand through the soft fur, taking in the bear’s shiny brown nose, a smile subconsciously starts to develop when he starts to realise that this was his to own; his very own Tenderheart Care Bear.

Uncle Vernon wouldn’t allow such things in the house, because it was for ‘poofters’ whatever that meant, and Dudley would always be a rotten pest to anyone who liked them, to always be on his father’s good side, especially if they were boys, and one time Harry getting dobbed on when he accepted a sticker from one of their fellow classmates, who was being nice and sharing out, the sticker was taken away from him and Uncle Vernon forced him to stay in his cupboard for a week, only being allowed out to use the bathroom and to eat what little food he was allowed to have, all the while being told how they won’t allow for such filth in the house as a boy who likes ‘girly things’.  
But he, Harry, could help it, he really did like these bears, and now he was holding one, touching it, and, though it was still in the seated box, holding it in his arms, not wanting to let go.  
With a light flick of Severus’s wand, the packaging was gone, allowing the boy to really firm his hug on ‘Tenderheart’.  
“Thank you,” he hears the boy mumble.  
Severus smiles in response: “You are most welcome, Harry.”

###

The rest of the tour was straightforward; Harry, (who was still clutching his new Tenderheart), was simply told that he was not to go down to the basement by himself.  
“I have my own private potions and stock down there, and at times I would have something brewing that could be dangerous if touched, or some of the items that go into the potions could be toxic and I do not wish for you to become sick or other, should you handle them without safety and supervision,” Severus tells him.  
Harry thought of the words that were spoken to him. “You said without safety and supervision, does that mean I might be allowed down there?”  
Severus nods: “Yes, only if I am, however. You are still very young, not only that, you are still starting to learn about your heritage, that would be including what you may, or may not, know, and I would want you to be allowed to grow in a pace that is going to be suited for you, that includes potions and how to manage them.”  
The little boy’s face beamed at this. “Okay, I promise to stay out, unless you let me.”

The last area of the tour was the courtyard that had the shed and the original toilet that had been there since the house’s construction, which was probably pre-wartime, Severus couldn’t really put a real pinpoint, so it was more educated guesswork.  
What he did do that that original toilet was fix it to be less of an eyesore and better functioning – something he always pictured of doing since he was a small child, as he had always hated, hated going to this particular one, because it was always with some form of bugs and cobwebs, and during the winter, how fast did one have to be to relieve themselves and make sure they didn’t freeze? (Ever so glad for the indoor bathroom that was put in the second he had inherited it).  
“It’s warm,” Harry points out, perplexed, seeing that the area was ‘open’ and snow was lightly falling through, but he didn’t feel the cold that came with it.  
“That is because I had placed a charm between that roof top corner to that one over there,” Severus explains, using his finger to point, “It acts like a shield to keep the yard at a nice temperature during the cold, it changes when it starts to become warmer.”  
“Cool!”  
Harry looks around, seeing the stark and boring area. “Do you have a garden? Or anything that can make this not so boring?”

The little boy’s eyes widened at his words, and quickly apologised, he didn’t want to be rude.  
“I have not really had much reason to do a lot with this house, I am hardly here for the most part, so I kept things the way they have, except for a few things,” said the Wizard kindly.  
“Where are you usually?” Harry asks, as they return to inside, making their way to the little table in the kitchen, where Severus invited Harry to sit down, while he, (the Potions Master), began to start making things for an early dinner.  
“I am either at Hogwarts, which is where I have my own little area to stay in during that time, and I have other properties that I have inherited after my mother died and I was the only one to have legal claim.”  
“What does inherited mean?”  
“It means when someone gives someone to someone after they either pass away, or sign it to the person for other reasons,” Severus clarifies. “You, yourself, have inherited items that were once your father’s, being his only heir; you get everything that was under the Potter name.”  
“Do I have any properties?” Harry asks, and then pauses for a moment. “What are properties?”  
“Items you own, it can be money, various objects, such as an old book or painting, to even houses and land.”  
“Oh.”  
Severus was a little amused by the six-year-old’s handling of all this.

Just then a flurry of feathers swept in from the backdoor that was in direction of the courtyard; Harry watched as the long-eared owl landed on the back of one of the three other chairs; the poor boy near fell out of his own chair.  
“You have an owl in here!” he says.  
Severus looked over before going over.  
“This is the owl I have told you about, Arianrhod,” he informs.  
Harry was a little nervous being so close to the dark brown and tawny coloured bird.  
Arianrhod tilts her head toward the new guest and as if to sense his feelings, eases her way over and bows forward a little, Harry backed a little, unsure on what she was doing.  
“She is offering you to pat her, it her way of saying hello and she really likes children.”  
Hearing Severus say this, tentatively Harry reached his little hand up and gently began to stroke the soft feathers at the back and base of Arianrhod’s head, after a few moments of this, Harry eased and let out a small shy giggle when the owl gave a soft coo like sound and nip that wasn’t hard, nor pinching, for she appeared to want this boy’s trust.

“Do all Wizards have owls?” Harry inquires.  
“Not all, but owls are one of the ways we can get words to each other.”  
“Is that why she has a letter tied to her leg?” Harry asks, seeing the neatly tied silk teal and black ribbon, keeping the teal envelope secure.  
Severus took the envelope, giving Arianrhod a slice of chicken as a reward for her good deed, and answering Harry, ‘yes’ all at the same time. He slides the envelope into an inner pocket, so is to read it later, he wanted to keep his attention on Harry, plus there was dinner to be sorted out, the chicken wasn’t going to cut itself up, and the butter wasn’t going put itself on the bread, nor were the vegetables going to cook without some assistance.  
It wasn’t a big dinner, cold chicken sandwiches with roast vegetables, but the look on Harry’s face made Severus believe this kid thought he was getting some Sunday special treat, because the green eyes really couldn’t believe themselves.  
“Is... is this really for me?” he asks the Potions Master.  
There was that pang again.  
“Yes,” said Severus, unsure how else to answer. “Eat as much as you are comfortable.”  
If witnessing how Harry was handling the portions he was given at the hospital, where he was nervous about eating anything at all, clearly had almost vanished now that he was helping himself to some of the freshly cooked pumpkin and carrots.

“Not sure if I like those,” Harry peeps, making a face after he tried the parsnips.  
“That is okay, it could be something we might put into a stew or something else and see if you like them different to how they are,” Severus suggested. “If it turns out they’re not to your liking at all, we’ll make sure they’re not on your plate.”  
Harry liked that idea. He was allowed to give Arianrhod a little of his chicken, as she really liked the meat.  
“Now, I am not sure if you had noticed, but I didn’t have a Christmas tree or other decorations up,” Severus goes to say during their meal.  
“I did, I just didn’t want to say anything, because I know not everyone does Christmas,” said Harry, curious to know why it was being bought up.  
“Well, that is true. However, in this case, much like the rest of this house, I haven’t had a reason to put one up, until now. Would you like to help decorate the tree I managed to get and put a few other things around the living room? Perhaps even put a few festive items in your room?”  
“Can I?” the excitement rang in the little boy’s voice.  
A chuckle escapes. “You certainly may, Harry.”

It didn’t seem to take long for the excited young man to finish what he could with his food, eager to do something he had been denied year after year.  
The tree and different items were all waiting when Harry entered the living area. The tree was shorter than Severus, standing at four foot, but it was still a tree, and it was still taller than Harry, and it was a real pine tree.  
“Your mother always preferred the real trees, she even gave us one that was a little smaller than this one, one Christmas, because we were having trouble getting one,” Severus mentions to the boy.  
“Aunt Petunia always said my Mum was not nice words for wanting to ruin the carpets or something, because their parents always let Mum have whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted,” Harry returns.  
The Potions Master does his best to not make a face, though it was difficult not to.  
“Petunia has always been the jealous type,” he says. “I am not trying to put thoughts in your head, Harry, I am just letting you how I remember things when I was growing up with your Aunt and mother.”  
The boy understood. “What happened to my grandparents? Why didn’t they take me in?”

Again with the pang to the gut and heart!  
Severus sadly shook his head. “Your father’s parents died of what is known as Dragon Pox, and they weren’t really young when they got it, it’s a horrible disease in the Wizard World. As for your mother’s parents, I wish I knew what happened to be fair, they were very well when I had last spoke to them, and next thing I know they were dead, and I don’t know what happened to cause it.  
“Hasn’t Petunia told you of anything?”  
Harry shook his head. “She doesn’t like me asking questions about anything.”  
I bet she doesn’t, Severus thinks to himself.  
“If I ever remember any more, or find anything, I will let you know,” he then tells the boy.  
“Okay.”  
“Now, what would you like to start with? Putting the decorations on the tree or the tinsel around the walls and shelves?”  
At this Harry was allowed to forget the bad that has happened to him for a while, as he and Severus got to work; stopping to have a nice bowl of bread and butter pudding before continuing until it was time for Harry to put on his pyjamas and hop into bed.  
With his new Tenderheart snug under his arm, Harry was out within moments of hitting the pillow.  
Severus took this opportunity to open the envelope and read the reply of his long letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Safe to say this story is starting to grow and grow as we're going along.


	7. Next Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has an accident.  
> Later they get some visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lack of ideal chapter title....

Chapter 7  
Next Morning

At some point during the night, Severus was woken by a shuffling noise, he near went for his wand, until his eyes adjusted to see the outline of Harry by the doorway; he could hear sniffling and sense hesitation.  
“Harry?” he says, now using his wand to flick the lights on to see. “What are you doing up?”  
“I had an accident,” Harry barely speaks higher than the hushed tone.  
Letting out a small sigh, Severus pushes back the covers to climb out of bed, speaking as he did.  
“Best we get you into some clean clothes and change the sheets.”  
He saw the surprise on the young boy’s face.  
“You’re not mad?”

Severus furrowed his brows: “Why would I be? It’s not your fault, you’re still a child, and this is a new place, so I can only imagine that getting up to go to the loo might be a little scary for you? Plus, even if this wasn’t a new place, which would be a while for you to settle in, I am sure accidents might still happen.”  
“B-b-but... Uncle Vernon...” Harry went to protest, looking right into the man’s face, his eyes flecked with pink and cheeks splotched; he was not used to this.  
Severus knelt down to Harry’s level. “I do not need to fully know that whatever that moron did, or said, is probably something that was not how situations like this should have been handled. You are no longer there, and you do not need to be afraid to come to me, because, while I am not perfect, and I might get upset at times, because I am human, that does not mean my wanting the best for you hasn’t changed. Do you understand, Harry?”  
Harry nods.  
“Now, let’s get this fixed, shall we?”

It didn’t take long for fresh sheets to be placed on the bed – after the mattress was given a good dry and scented with lavender and orange, and little Harry to be given a quick wash down to get rid of any of the sensations urine can leave behind, both in feel and smell, and into pyjamas.  
“Are you going to be okay settling back down by yourself, or would you like me to stay with you until you fall asleep?” Severus offers, tucking the boy in.  
“Stay, please?” Harry squeaks, clinging to Tenderheart.  
Giving a small, comforting smile, Severus sat beside the bed, taking up the book that he had been reading to Harry bit by bit; a small flash of glee etched into the boy’s face, as he started to listen to the careful tone of this man’s voice, taking in the world he was being taken into, until his own dreams had retaken over.  
After he was sure Harry had gone back to sleep, Severus placed the bookmark in where they were, closed the book and replaced it on the bedside table, he left the lamp light on.  
“Good night, Harry,” he says, before getting up and exiting.  
He was certainly glad that he had a reason to stay put; otherwise he would have found another reason to go after Vernon and Petunia Dursley.

Morning light crept in, waking Severus up, the first thing he did was check on Harry. Finding that the boy was still deep in his slumber, the Wizard didn’t have the heart to wake him, the poor boy had been woken at times during his days in the hospital for routine checks, and the few stories he’s heard of the boy’s Aunt and Uncle...

For once the boy was going to enjoy a decent sleep in, even if he may not wake up until well after nine thirty, Harry deserved such pleasures and necessities.  
Satisfied with his decision, Severus got himself ready for the day, showering, dressing and going downstairs to the now decorated living area, a smile crept upon his face taking in the marvel of their handy work from the night before. There wasn’t much to go overboard with, but it was certainly enough to have the boy feel like he accomplished something by just being involved, the tinsel, paper-rings and a few hangings were along the walls, bookcases or dangling from the ceiling – Harry asked for the Santa in his sleigh being pulled by pair of reindeer to be hanging from ceiling, along with snowflakes and stars, giving the visual that Santa was going through a snowy night sky.

The tree was now covered with different coloured baubles, candy canes and various figures and shapes that spelled out Christmas cheer, including bells and bows, there was a red and white skirt at the bottom and an Angel on the very top, Harry had a choice between this Angel and the Star, and the boy really liked how the angel glowed with her golden halo and wings. The Star ended up being placed at the fireplace instead with a pair of near identical elves.

Three days left until Christmas Day, Severus couldn’t remember the last time he felt this much satisfaction in what he was doing. Of course, fulfilling the ‘Dear Santa’ Letters was one of the few moments of joy he had, but this felt really different, though unable to put a firm finger on it.  
It wasn’t long before he was in the kitchen making himself some breakfast and settling down at the table to eat, while opening his morning mail – thanks to the ever dutiful Arianrhod, who was perched on top of her tree shaped perch, sleeping with her head under her wing, exhausted from her flight.

Severus near on choked when he read what he was reading in one of the letters, it was enough to have him see red, only his self-control was what kept him seated, and the mere fact that he still had a child within his care, and he was ever so glad Harry was definitely out of that place, and certain influences have no ability to override that, given that there have been a few attempts since Harry’s departure from the hospital, even before that, of intercepting the boy and have him replaced into the care of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, with the reasons of them being ‘the only blood he has left’ and a few other petty excuses.

There was little doubt in Severus’s mind that he knew who was behind it, and was frankly appalled by it.

Even more grotesque were the attempts to stop charges from being laid; reports of a few people ‘forgetting’ things, and files being misplaced, anything to try and bungle anything that could potentially help Harry stay away from dangers and kept in Severus’s care until a suitable home was able to be found – though the way it was looking, from all observations and gut feelings, Severus wasn’t looking forward to that idea of little Harry being elsewhere, especially now that he knows about his heritage.

What wasn’t to say that the next home wasn’t going to be as forthcoming toward the boy who has been dealt a misfortune or two in his short life, and he couldn’t bear the thought of Harry being crushed again, or... dare he say it, not see him again.  
He wanted what was best for Harry, of course, but what was the best? He didn’t know how to answer that.  
Harry shuffles on into the kitchen, his Tenderheart tagging along with him, looking timid and unsure.  
The Potions Master smiles warmly: “Good morning, Harry, did you sleep well?”  
The boy nods, his mouth remaining closed.  
“Are you hungry?”  
Replying with a nod, Severus offers ideas on what Harry might like, settling for a bowl of porridge with honey.

“I hope you will be okay on my having a guest coming over at around lunchtime today,” Severus said.  
Harry didn’t hide his worry. “Who?”  
“His name is Draco, he is the same age as you, I have spoken extensively to his parents, and they are willing to allow you to meet, see if you might be willing to have a friend.”  
“Is Draco a wizard, too?” Harry asks.  
“Yes, he is.”  
“Is... is anyone else coming?” the boy nervously asks.  
“Not straight away, but I have contacted someone who did know your parents, he was a very close friend of theirs since they were at Hogwarts, especially to your father,” Severus speaks in truthful tone. He had nothing to hide from this child.  
“Why can’t he come straight away?”  
“I will tell you more on why in time, I can only say that Remus, that is his name, is not always in a state to see people at times, but when he is, he will come by to meet you; if you would like to, of course, I am not going to make you see someone you do not want to.”  
Harry took this into consideration, content to be allowed to have a voice in this.  
“I guess it will be okay,” he says.

“In the meantime, I think once you are done with breakfast, you could change out of your PJs and into something else for the day?”  
“What am I to do after that? Would you like me to do the dishes? Or, maybe the windows?”  
Severus quickly shakes his head. “That will not be necessary, Harry. I might give you some responsibility, but ones that I believe are fit for a child your age, I do not expect you to be climbing the roof to clean the gutters, or be some personal chimney sweep.”  
Harry shift in his seat, not saying anything, fiddling with his spoon, not eating the porridge he was about to scoop in; Severus’s eagle eye caught this.  
“Let me guess? You were made to do either of those things?”  
Harry didn’t answer, he didn’t have to.  
“Today all you’re expected to do is to have fun. While we are waiting for Draco and his parents, we can do whatever it is you might like to do, I took the liberty of making sure I did have a few things here for you to occupy and give you excitement. If you like, I could offer to show you how to set up the train set that I have, it’s in storage, but still in good condition.”  
This perks the boy’s ears: “You have a train set?”  
“Would you like to help me go and get it?”

Still with some nervousness, but only slightly, Harry eagerly says yes, and after they were done with breakfast went to the storage area in the courtyard, where Severus kept some of his old childhood possessions.  
Curiosity did hit Harry when he saw some of the items, all perfectly preserved and dust free, some being in boxes, however, but still safe from any vermin and bugs that might destroy otherwise.  
“What is that?” Harry asks, pointing to a large square looking case that had a circular plate thing in the middle and a funny arm with a point.  
“It’s a portable record player,” said Severus.  
“Wow, so that’s what those are,” said Harry.  
“You’ve not seen a record player?”  
“I have, I just never knew what they were, no-one told me, I’ve only ever seen the one Aunt Petunia had; but she always has it on whenever Uncle Vernon was about to do something not nice to me; something about needing music to keep busy,” Harry makes a face at the memory.  
Severus could only guess what that meant.  
“Well, if you feel that it might bother you, I won’t have it set up, unless you are going to be okay with it.”

At this he found the box he was after, pulling it out and placing it on the ground in front of Harry, opening the flaps to show two handsomely painted trains resting on top of what was, without a doubt, the tracks and other display items.  
“Would you still like to set this up?” the Potion Master asks.  
“Yes, please!”  
For the rest of the morning, Harry joyfully got to play with the train set, carefully setting up where the platforms got to go, the bridges and tunnels and even “the Fat Controller”, because the person with the top hat that came with the set reminded Harry of the Fat Controller from Thomas the Tank Engine.  
The knocking at the door caused Harry to jolt from his game, standing up quickly and was about to head toward the stairs.  
“Where are you going, Harry?” Severus asks.  
The six-year-old stops at the foot of the stairs, green eyes shooting this look of confusion and nervousness.  
“I’m not meant to be seen...” he says.  
This causes the Wizard to shake his head, thinking on how deep rooted this was and will be extremely glad when Harry would be starting his appointed counselling sessions come the New Year.

“You are not forced to be hidden away, Harry, but I am not going to stop you from not being in the room, either,” Severus chooses to say, thinking that it was best to help this child where he could; he walks over to the front door to open it.  
Standing on the other side were three people, a man, a woman and a young boy; all of them had near white blond hair, though the woman’s was perhaps more darker tinged and had dignified dark brown through it and her eyes were similar to blue topazes, whereas the man and the boy were both grey eyed and near identical in the pointed face, however it was clear that the boy got his mother’s paler tone, for the father was of a ‘darker’ tone of the pale skin he had.

“Good to see you, Severus, I do hope that you have been keeping well, and that we aren’t too early,” spoke the man, who was holding a cane that had a silver snake head ornament carved at the top.  
“Not at all Lucius; do come on in,” Severus returns the politeness, stepping aside to allow the family of three to enter. “I hope that getting here wasn’t too troubling.”  
“We’ve had to be a little extra sneaky, but other than that, we couldn’t refuse the offer to help, a child is still a child, no matter who they are,” spoke Lucius’s wife. “It might also give Draco a good chance to appreciate how life can be at times.”

Draco’s little eyes swept the area before him, sighting the decorations, the tree and the train set that was starting to take shape, with the tracks branching out this way and that about the living room, but it wasn’t complete from what he could see.  
Then he saw what looked to be the top of someone’s head, black hair poking out from behind an armchair that was near the stairs, green eyes peering out.  
Curious, Draco went over and saw that the eyes and hair belonged to another boy, who was sitting with his knees up, looking completely unsure of what to do, except to try and make himself look invisible.

“Are you trying to play hide and seek?”  
Harry stares at this new boy now on the seat of the armchair, looking down at him.  
“N-no... I... I’m trying to stay out of the way.”  
“Why?”  
“Because, I am not to be seen or heard by anyone,” says Harry.  
Draco makes a bit of a face at this. “Well, I see you and I can hear you, and even if you were playing hide and seek, Uncle Severus’s little house doesn’t have as many good places to hide.”  
“Severus is your Uncle?” Harry asks.  
“More in the sense that I am very close friends to Draco’s parents, and Draco is my godson,” Severus interjects.  
“I know your name is Harry,” says Draco. “Mother and father told me before we came here what your name was.”

Harry peered over to the man and woman standing with Severus; all dressed nicely in their elegant robes, even Draco looked quite sophisticated for a boy of six, compared to Harry, who was wearing the simplest of clothing.  
They both introduced themselves; Harry shyly gives a tiny wave with his fingers.

“How much of the tracks do you have left?” Draco asks, spying the incomplete set.  
At first Harry didn’t know how to respond, sliding a glance at Severus, who was giving an encouraging nod.  
“There are some tracks still in the box, and other stuff, too, I was thinking of seeing if a hill could be made,” Harry finds himself saying, pointing to where he was starting to place tracks over a makeshift ‘hill’ made out of a couple of books.  
“Can I help?”  
The boy was surprised by the other’s want to help and play with him; no-one has ever done that. Any who have tried were bullied and threatened, leaving Harry to be all alone, always wanting to have at least one friend.  
Now here was a boy name Draco Malfoy who wanted to help him, and play with him, hopefully to also be a friend.  
It wasn’t long before the entire track was complete, and the last of the decor was in place, leaving for the trains to be bustling along by Harry and Draco.


	8. Can we keep him?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco wants to keep Harry...

Chapter 8  
Can we keep him?

Narcissa and Lucifer both followed Severus through to the kitchen area, (letting the boys know where they would be).  
“May I offer you something to drink?” Severus says, just before he casts the muffle charm that would deter Draco and Harry from listening in, or if they were to hear anything, they wouldn’t understand much, unless invited into the conversation.  
“If it isn’t going to be any trouble,” Narcissa replies, equally polite.  
Severus sets up the kettle on the stove and goes about the motions to start making the preparations for the choice of tea or coffee. He was also making sure nothing was getting ruined in regards to lunch, either.  
“We are going to be honest to say we were surprised when you contacted us about this,” Lucius goes on to say, adjusting one of the chairs to allow for his wife to be seated. “We figured that you couldn’t say too much, just in case, but now that we are here, we can assume that, judging from what we have just witnessed upon simply arriving, that this is far deeper than what was written in the letter to us.”

It was true, Severus had only penned just enough detail to make it sufficient, but withheld, for he wanted to protect Harry as much as possible, and ensure that the right people were helping... at great risk, too.  
“It does go much deeper,” the Potions Master confirms, glancing over to the Malfoys, before tapping his wand when the kettle was steaming, causing it to rise from the stove and over to the reading teapot for the hot water to be put into. “I am still going to be respectful in how much to give in information, but enough more detail to understand why it was worth the gamble, as I believe that, in spite of how we may have felt toward certain people, their son did not deserve the way things were dealt to him.  
“I had also made a promise, to which I intend to keep.”  
He was now carrying the tray of items over to the table, he had also set aside two cups and a jug of juice for the two boys, as they would sure to get thirsty at some point before food was served.

Known for not beating about the bush, Severus began to speak of what he hadn’t said to Narcissa and Lucius via quill and parchment; the faces the husband and wife had given were matching; appalled was an understatement.  
“Does the boy know that his stay with you might be temporary?” Lucius asks.  
Severus shakes his head. “Not as yet, I feel that it would be best to allow Harry to have some enjoyment right now, before explaining what is to come, as I believe nothing is likely to happen until after Christmas.”  
“What will you do in the meantime?” Narcissa asks, taking a sip from her cup, her blue eyes not moving away from the man with dark hair, seated opposite to her and Lucius.  
“Look after Harry,” Severus replies, frowning a little; thinking it was an obvious thing to do.  
Narcissa gives a tiny smile, understanding the confusion. “What I mean is; are you going to try to keep Harry permanently? Be his full guardian? For it might help to have Harry be in a home that is going to provide security and safe comforts.”  
In all fairness, Severus hadn’t fully thought of the prospect, only looking at the short term to help get the small boy out of the horrible situation, taking all legal measures to do so.  
“I... I don’t know if I am the right fit,” he draws slowly out in admission.  
He doesn’t move his own gaze away from Narcissa.

“Harry is going to need more than just a roof, some clothes and food. He is going to need a lot of help in getting through the trauma that has been going on his entire life until now, also being aware of certain others who might want to exploit him.”  
“All the more reason to consider the option of placing permanent guardianship on Harry,” Narcissa says in a mixed tone of matter-of-factly and kindly. “He is going to need stability, he is going to need to have a way of knowing where he is welcome and belongs. You could provide that for him, which you’ve already started by taking him into your home, even seeing to him while he was at the hospital.”  
“Not to mention that he and Draco have already started to create something that may as well be the starts of a friendship,” Lucius pipes up, as he was watching from his seat to where the boys were in the living area; along with the muffling charm, there was also a ‘visual distortion’ spell that made the framing appear more wider than it was, in order to properly see the two boys.

Harry and Draco were laughing as they were trying to figure the best way to make a tunnel for the trains, but the cushions kept collapsing in a way that was clearly a delight, similar to when a tower of wooden blocks was sent to smithereens.  
“Why not consider the guardianship yourself?” Severus suggested.  
Lucius and Narcissa were quiet when they were asked this.  
“It might be a consideration,” Lucius carefully phrases. “The suggestion of you, and do not take this the wrong way, but... it might help you in gaining some form of heir, even if not of blood, adoption is just as legally binding and it may help seal assurance of your family inheritance doesn’t went up where it shouldn’t.”  
Severus did his best to not press his lips. He did understand where his old friend was coming from, but he didn’t think it was right to go above what was needed to be done, plus he was only twenty-six, soon to be twenty-seven, who knew what would come about in a number of years time?  
Of course, he wanted to be sure Harry was given the proper care; maybe the idea wasn’t too unsound, it’s just...  
“Or, maybe it would be an ideal suggestion to take Harry into your home?”

Severus watched the pensive expression etch on to Narcissa’s face; Lucius didn’t appear to be against the suggestion, either, but... They had been considering whether to have any more children, though it was risky, they were lucky to have Draco, though it nearly cost Narcissa her life, as well as Draco’s.  
“I hope I didn’t overexert,” he suddenly says, apologetically and guilty, remembering their dilemma.  
“For now, until things move forward, Harry is where he needs to be,” Narcissa does say benevolently.  
They saw movement, and turned to see Harry standing at the doorway, looking rather uncertain, fidgeting with his hands, biting his lower lip.  
“Yes, Harry?” Severus speaks to the boy.  
“Draco asked if he could see my room... I wanted to ask you if you were okay with that.”  
“I don’t see why not, so long as you don’t make too much of a mess, I am sure it’s okay to even play in there if you like,” says Severus.

Harry looks at the train set that was still laid out on the floor, unsure of what to do.  
“Would you like me to pack up the trains first?”  
Severus could see Draco was just behind Harry, a little confused by such a question, saying something that they could come back to it if they wanted to, which surprised the dark haired boy.  
“But... I was always told that if I left anything out, I’d get a beating... and I always get one!”  
Draco’s little grey eyes widened at that, and then looked at his parents and Severus, confused and upset by what he had just been told.  
“But... Why?” his voice was little and trying to work out how getting a beating for leaving toys out was possible.  
“Because Uncle Vernon says I deserve it for being a filthy freak who likes to touch Dudley’s toys, and Aunt Petunia even watched as he smacked me with one of Dudley’s remote control cars, and blamed me for causing it to break, and beat me even more.”

It was a complete shock to the Malfoys on how matter-of-factly this six-year-old was telling the scenario, even though he was showing signs of being upset and still traumatised, he was calm.  
“Mummy and Daddy have never done that to me!” Draco says, almost a little louder than intended; he turns again to his parents. “Can we keep Harry? He wouldn’t have to worry about what these people did! He can have fun with us!”  
Harry didn’t expect that. “But... I’m a freak...” he whispers.  
“Harry, you are not a freak,” Severus speaks, who was now kneeling in front of the boy, (he had moved quickly over, sensing the need to comfort); “The trains can stay out for now, in case you and Draco would like to return to them. You may show Draco your room, as I have already said, though it might be for a short while, as lunch isn’t too far off now.”  
“I don’t know what a freak is, but it sounds mean! You’re not that, you’re my friend!” Draco boldly says, hands on hips, and staring at Harry in a way that had him taken aback.  
“I... I am?”  
“Yes! You’re my friend! Mummy and Daddy can keep you, too!”  
“Harry isn’t a pet, Draco,” Lucius chimes in, amused by his son’s boldness, saddened by Harry’s plight, thinking maybe... just maybe...  
“I know that! But I’d still like to keep him!”  
Harry looks at Draco, then to Severus, over to Draco’s parents, then back to Draco.  
“You’re the only person who has called me a friend,” he says softly.  
“Everyone needs a friend! You’re my friend! You’re really fun and cool!”  
Little Harry was quiet for a second; thinking over what he was just told.  
“Would... would you like to see the cool map Severus got me?” he then asks the blond boy shyly.  
Draco grinned. “Yes, please!”  
The two boys scurried on off upstairs to Harry’s room, leaving the adults.

“I cannot even find the words to describe how sickened I am to have heard what that boy had just said,” Lucius said calmly. “Never mind what the Dark Lord had done, if anything, he got what he deserved! After discovering it what we now know.”  
“That was perhaps a snippet to the horrific things I’ve heard in the past number of days,” Severus tells them, rising to his feet.  
“I still believe that Harry would be a good fit for you, Severus, however...” Narcissa almost struggled to speak the next lot of words; “We might consider the option of bringing Harry under the Malfoy name, if, and only if, you cannot keep him.”  
The Potions Master understood the meaning behind her words.  
“All right, if you both believe that it is best for Harry to stay with me, though I still believe it is a temporary option, I will see to it on helping you gain custody.”  
This was countered by Narcissa strongly saying: “But, we are going to help you try and get full custody first!”  
Severus felt his stomach flip and his heart pound, his mind raced... perhaps... just maybe...

###

Lunch was delicious; a generous helping of beef and vegetable cottage pie with a side of wedges, after that the boys got to enjoy a freshly made muffin each with a bit of custard.

Draco and Harry did go back to playing with the trains, they had even drawn a replica of the map Harry had – the best version a pair of six-year-olds could ever create – so that the trains were not just taking passengers to some area in a single town, nope, this train could go to wherever around the globe.  
They made one of the lines of pillows they created to be the Wall of China, while a stack of books was the leaning tower of Pizza.

“Don’t you mean the leaning Pisa?” Lucius asks them.  
“Nope! Pizza!” Draco replies with a grin. “Harry says that it’s a type of food, and this tower is made of it! We decided it’s in the country called Honolulu.”  
Narcissa laughed at this, telling her husband to let them be, they’re having fun, and Draco was helping Harry come out of his shell.  
Harry got to enjoy being involved in deciding what some of the places this train was getting to go to, making them up as they went along with the game.

When it was time to go, Draco helped Harry put the train set away and clean up, (even though Harry was told he didn’t have to by Severus, the boy did so anyway, he knew that it wasn’t because he had to, he just wanted to, because he wanted to still be a good boy and be responsible).

“Can Harry come over for Christmas?” Draco then blurts out. “Please? He tells me he’s never had a good Christmas before!”  
“We had been discussing with Severus on whether Harry would like to join in the festivities for Christmas,” said Narcissa, she moves her glances over to Harry, smiling. “But only if Harry, himself, would like to. We cannot force him to come if he isn’t going to be comfortable.”  
Harry feels himself smiling a little at this nice lady. “I... I would like to... if you want me to come...”  
“I want you to come!” Draco says eagerly.

The darker haired boy laughs at the blond boy’s pleas; a real laugh, the kind that has been escaping most of the afternoon.  
“I guess, if things don’t change until then, we will be seeing you on Christmas,” says Lucius, approvingly.

###

“Did you have fun today, Harry?” Severus asks the boy as he helps him settle into bed.  
“I did,” Harry answers straight away. “I really liked Draco! I... I am happy he called me his friend!”  
This makes Severus smile. “I am pleased with that, too”  
“Do... do you think I would be able to stay friends with him when I go to a different home?”

Frowning at this Severus asks what Harry meant, for he was sure he hadn’t mentioned anything to the boy thus far about his living arrangements.  
Harry looked a little uncomfortable as he answers. “I guess I figured it out? I know that things are going on, but not all of it, but I guessed that I might be sent to someone else later.”  
Unable to hide or skirt around, Severus was honest with Harry; he couldn’t be any other way.

“I am sure that you will always be able to stay friends with Draco,” Severus does his best to assure.  
“I hope so; I’ve never had friends before. Not until I met you, or Draco.”  
“You...? You call me a friend?”  
Harry nods. “What else would you be?”  
Humbled, Severus places a comforting hand on the boy’s small back, thanking him for such kindness.


	9. Visiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petunia sees Vernon.
> 
> Severus is waking Harry up on Christmas morning...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, my sincerest of apologies for taking so long to write this latest chapter, things have been rather hectic in my real life. that it had kept me away from anything that involved a pen and paper or a keyboard. All I can say is, my kids and their welfare will always come first where priorities are concerned, (as well as my husband's and my own health, too). Yes, my children are safe, thank god!
> 
> I had gone back and forth about having the Petunia and Vernon scene in, but at the end it needed to be in there, and I couldn't find a way around in having it after the contents that follows.
> 
> I do hope that you enjoy, and thank you all very kindly for your reviews and kudos.

Chapter 9  
Visiting

Her white knuckled hands were shaking, clinching to her handbag, doing all her best to not appear anything but presentable.  
“May I help you?” asks the uniformly dressed woman at the reception, peering up from the top of her glasses.  
“Yes, I am here to see my husband, Vernon Dursley,” Petunia replied just loud enough to be heard by her.  
The woman pursed her lips, before pulling out a thick blue folder and started rummaging through the binders, until she found what she was looking for.

“Uh... It seems he _is_ allowed visitors,” she says in a cool tone, before taking the phone, dialling a couple of numbers as she places it to her ear and waits. Someone picked up on the other end, for she says; “Hey, it’s June, I have Dursley’s Misses here at front wanting to see him.” She pauses to listen to the response. “No, she’s on her own.”  
Hearing this had Petunia shuffle, not looking at the woman named June.  
“Alright, thanks Frank,” June hangs up, addressing Petunia; “Someone will come by to escort you to the meeting room.”  
“Thank you,” Petunia manages to say.

June gives her another up and down survey.  
“Karma really does bite, doesn’t it, Petunia?”  
Petunia stares at the other woman; doing her all to figure out why she would say such a thing.  
“Do I even know you?”  
A slight purse of the lips and glint in the eye, before June answers: “Summer, back in 1975, in Norfolk.”

June then went back to her work, ignoring the stunned Petunia gawking at her, trying to find some words to say, only to be unable and before she could even choke out a sound, Frank – a rather dashing looking chap wearing his uniform prim and proper – came on out to escort her away, as she was starting to slowly realise who the other woman was.

Petunia was led along the sterile and rather boring hallway until they came to a set of see-through doors that peered into a room that had seats and tables bolted to the floor, and on the other side was barred door, where it was just opening up wide.  
Out came two more wardens, in between them, wearing a plain orange jumpsuit, cuffs to his hands and ankles, looking extremely dishevelled was the man Petunia had been fighting to see since this whole fiasco began.

“P-Petunia?” his voice sounded rather pathetic.  
Vernon Dursley was directed to one of the tables and forced to sit down, so they could link the cuffs to it, Petunia went over and sat opposite, her hand resting on his.  
“How is Dudley?” he straight away asks.  
Petunia shakes her head, sadly, her lower lip quivering. “I have only been allowed to see him three times so far, all the time with someone there, watching. He seems okay, wanting to come home... but... I am not allowed to.”  
“Not allowed?” Vernon choked, his face going to the hint of purple. “You’re his mother! He needs you!”  
This made his wife sniffle and shake her head again. “It matters not, for all they can see is that I am as much of a danger to him, as you are.”  
Outraged by this, Vernon barked: “A danger to our boy? According to whom?”

Glancing around the room, noticing that the guards were placed at the doorways to prevent anyone from getting away, or other, Petunia didn’t know how else to tell him, other than what she knew.  
“From what I’ve been told, the charges are really serious, Vernon, and... I am looking at the possibility of having the same circumstances as you, for child endangerment, neglect and abuse against Harry... and they decided to have Dudley in the same category.”  
Vernon looked like he was about to pop a vein, but did his best to not blow up.

“Over a bit of discipline?”  
“Not according to the whole of Little Whinging, Vernon!” Petunia sobbed. “I am no longer invited to _anything_! I get stared at while doing the shopping, whispers and snide remarks! I can hardly be at our house, because I’m being threatened, to where I have had to be elsewhere. Marge took me in; as far as she is concerned the boy deserved what he got! You shouldn’t be locked up!”  
“Do you agree with her?”  
Petunia squeezed Vernon’s hand a little.  
“All I can say is that you won’t have to worry about being in here for much longer,” she speaks just loud enough for him to hear. “I’ve made a deal that would work for all of us.”  
This peaked Vernon Dursley’s interest.

###

“Harry, it is time to wake up,” Severus softly says, nudging the boy awake.  
Harry scrunches his face a little at the disturbance, shifting to move the covers enough to free his hand in order to rub the sleep from his eyes.  
Severus waited for him to sitting up and had done all his stretching out, before saying the following;  
“Merry Christmas, Harry.”  
Blinking for a moment to understand what he had just been told, and the words clicking in to realise that he had, for once, been told the very words he had been yearning to hear for as long as his little memories could allow.  
“Merry Christmas, Severus,” he replies joyfully.

Smiling back, Severus gave the six-year-old a choice of having breakfast before opening presents, and then getting dressed, or getting dressed, having breakfast and then opening presents.  
Harry thought it over.  
“I guess I’d like to have breakfast first,” he says, politely.  
He then spied the little tree that had been placed in his room with a couple of items underneath it.  
This didn’t go unnoticed, not withdrawing his kind smile, Severus said that he was going to put the last touches on to breakfast, and it would give young Harry enough time to open his first two presents of the day.  
Harry was a little taken aback. “Really? I get to open them? I won’t get in trouble?”  
Shaking his head, Severus assured that Harry is no longer to worry about being scolded by anyone for doing something that ought to be fun and enjoyable.  
“I also believe that they would be extra useful,” he adds.

Nervous at first, Harry got out of bed and over to where the tree was, taking the first of the neatly wrapped presents and carefully tore the wrapping paper off.  
“What is it?” Harry asks unsure of what he was looking at, now afraid he was going to be in trouble for being confused.  
“Find-A-Word puzzle books,” Severus replies. “From what I had been able to assess when it comes to your reading levels, you are just on average for your age, and felt that these may help in exercising some of your thinking muscles, and might enjoy something that may not have been thought of before.”  
Harry looked at the two books, the letters were big enough and from what he was able to make out when he had a look inside one of them, they were filled with words he already did know, but others he did not.

The other gift was something that had Harry’s eyes light up at the sight of it, he looks at Severus.  
“Thank you!” he says, clutching the brand new pair of shoes, complete with socks.  
Up until now, Harry had only his trainers that were so old and falling apart and not doing so well for his feet being squashed, (though it was temporarily fixed with a spell to give more cushion and room for his feet).  
“I do hope that they will fit you just fine, with a little room for any growth to be had,” said Severus.  
“May I wear them for when we go to Draco’s?”  
“You definitely may.”  
Harry grins at this.

Not long after, Harry and Severus were downstairs; the boy’s eyes had widened at the sight of presents that were neatly placed under the tree, but was unsure of what to say; deciding to continue to the kitchen and dining room, where the instant smell of delicious aroma sprung upon his little nose.  
When he got to the table, Harry’s face beamed when he saw the ‘snowman’ on his plate, a large pancake made up the bottle part of the body and a medium sized one for the head, bacon strips for arms, sliced strawberries to make up for the buttons, scarf and little hat, last was the fresh cream and blueberries to make up the face and ‘snow’.  
“Thank you,” he does say to Severus.  
“You are welcome.”

Other than the ‘snowman’ pancake and waffle, there was also a fresh glass of juice and a ham and cheese filled croissant.  
Harry had never remembered having some so yummy before, especially on Christmas morning. He was always given some boring porridge or dry toast and was told that he ought to be grateful, being forced to watch his cousin shove big piles of freshly made scrambled egg or some pastry into his big mouth.  
Severus, himself, had something similar, only his was not arranged to resemble of anything, other than some ordinary breakfast.  
He watches the boy with quiet observation, noting how careful he was being, almost unsure if this was real, it was somewhere after the first few mouthfuls did Harry relax and really enjoy the snowman pancake, where there was an added drizzle of maple syrup.  
“You do not have to eat it all,” Severus then tells him when he notices Harry was struggling a little to finish, as it was made to be nice and filling, not just scrumptious and pretty.  
Harry looks at the remaining last quarter on his plate, calculating whether he could fit it all, deciding to replace his knife and fork on the plate, satisfied with his full stomach.

“Thank you,” he says to Severus.  
“Perhaps you ought to say a thank you to Narcissa, too,” said Severus, smiling. “She was the one who taught me how to make the pancakes.”  
“I don’t know if I will remember; but I will try to,” Harry replies, fidgeting a little, he wanted to be good; it was tough to always remember things.  
“Would you like to open your presents?”  
Harry nodded eagerly, but looked at the tableware: “But... what about the dishes?”  
Severus assured the boy that he did not need to worry about it, flicking the tip of his wand to have the plates and all levitate and float carefully over to beside the sink, ready to be washed up when given the chance.  
“No young child needs to worry about such trivial things on Christmas, unless nicely asked, or offered,” he says.  
With that being said, Severus guides Harry to the living area, and lets him loose on his gifts.

To sit and watch Harry beam at the new clothes and two more sets of shoes, plus a pair of slippers that closely matched the blue of the dressing gown put a smile on Severus’s face. Just as much when he witnesses how Harry was even more appreciative of having the clothes and new practical things such as a backpack and brand spanking news colouring pencils, crayons and books to read and do activities in, and not minding that there weren’t as many toys under the tree, if anything to receive his very own Optimus Prime from Transformers, another Care Bear, (Bedtime Bear), and several matchbox cars to go with the make your own track set, he was happy... but...  
“Harry, whatever is the matter?” Severus asks, seeing Harry stopping and was on the verge of tears.  
The little boy shakes his head, not knowing the words to speak what was on his mind, but was giving enough vibes for his guardian to cautiously move over, placing his hand on his little shoulder.  
Harry looks up at Severus, fresh tears now breaking, a tiny snippet of what he was thinking flicked into visibility through the Wizard’s aptitude to know how.

Not saying a word, Severus – without any objection – drew the young lad into a reassuring hug, allowing him to weep. He did not need to assure the boy that this was indeed real, that the Christmases from the past were NOT going to reoccur, nor would he have to deal with that ever, _ever_ again. Harry, deep down, knew that he was getting the Christmas he deserved, and it was only morning still, but the overwhelming of it had caught up with him at this time, and all that could be done was a single, comforting hug and being held until he was settled down, Severus quietly asking if he would like to continue opening the presents, there were a good few left to go, or finish doing so after getting back from the Malfoys.

Harry looks at the remaining six, he would like to know what they were, then he looked at what he had already unwrapped, including the one he was halfway opening, (which were three books, that he was yet to learn the titles of), before opting to get ready for the rest of the day.  
Supporting this decision, Severus helps Harry to choose which of his new shirts and trousers he would like to wear, and helped him with the laces on his new shoes, teaching the boy his little trick of tying them.  
Once Severus had himself ready, they were off to Malfoy Manor.  
Harry’s eyes near popped out and mouth opening wide.  
“ _Wow!_ ”  
The grounds were decorated magnificently to compliment the building and the snow that covered it all gave it something close to a winter palace. He was just as amazed and overjoyed when he saw the white peacocks strutting about.  
“I never knew places like this were real,” Harry blurts.  
This amused Severus, but it also reminded him again just how much the child had been denied, even if he had gone to school.

When they had reached the door and used the doorknocker, the door flew open.  
“ _Harry!_ ” Draco cries with glee, grinning from ear to ear. “ _Come on!_ I _have_ to show you the awesome looking cakes!”  
Harry looks up at Severus, who just nods with an encouraging smile; enough of a signal to hurry after Draco, passing Narcissa who was the one who opened the door.  
“I have a feeling your son still sees those traditional cakes as the best part of Christmas,” Severus quips.  
“This is the fourth year so far,” Narcissa agrees not withholding her smile, closing the door behind Severus after he had stepped inside. “How did Harry find his Christmas morning so far?”  
“Overwhelming,” Severus gave Narcissa a bit more information to let her know what had happened, the woman’s face was saddened in expression upon hearing.  
“Perhaps just allowing him to take today as slow or as fast as he is willing would be the best option,” she does suggest, not wanting to give Harry any more distress where he may not be comfortable yet to express just how happy he really was, for the anxiety of losing such magic was still very real for him.  
Not disagreeing, Severus followed Narcissa to where the boys had scurried off to, which was the ballroom. Like the grandeur outside, the ballroom was an equal match of elegance and splendid charm.

Everything had its own area, from the tables for the guests and hosts to sit, to the Christmas tree, (with a generous amount of gifts in and around it), and the many tables that had designated items; including the roasts, side dishes and more...  
Draco was pointing out to Harry all the well designed cakes that had were closest to the big tree, yet farthest from the seating tables.  
“That one is from the Parkinsons!” (A simple white frosted cake that was decorated with what looked to be crushed candy canes and spearmint leaves, laid out in a way that made it look like they were jewels). “My Aunty Andromeda sent that one! She always makes really yummy ones!” (A white and green cream and icing, winter forest wonderland on top complete with woodland creatures in and around the pine trees, with a sticky toffee drizzling on top).  
“You and Andromeda are on speaking terms?” Severus couldn’t help asking, a little surprised, when they were close enough to be in earshot of the boys.  
Narcissa nods. “Dumbledore has no idea, of course, as far as he knows she is still written off the tree, but that is farthest from the truth, Aunt Walburga knew the reasons behind Andromeda’s choice to be with Ted, and honestly, couldn’t blame her in the end once she knew the entire facts of it.”  
This did give the Wizard a slight curious, wanting to know more, but refrained a little, as they were in a setting where ears could be listening where they really should not be. Good grace in timing Lucius appeared; alongside him were a wizard and witch wearing beautiful elegant dress robes for the festive day.

“Nice to see you, Severus,” spoke the wizard, smiling charmingly.  
“Gerard,” Severus replies, taking the offering handshake. “Hazel. I hope you have been keeping well, as is Pansy.”  
“We’ve been splendid, Pansy’s doing much better now she’s gotten over her dratted cold,” Gerard answers. “I do hope that you don’t mind if she befriends young Potter over there, as we’ve been hearing through the grapevine that some unmentionable things have happened, and I daresay, a slight against anyone with magic in their veins, is a calling card for a more consequential payback!”  
The Potions Master didn’t want to fully entertain Gerard Parkinson’s idea of consequential payback, but he got the gist well enough. He did spy over to see that their daughter, with her dark brown hair up nicely and dressed pretty, now chatting to Draco and Harry.

He sees Harry being unsure by this new girl, but when Pansy pulled out something from her little carry sack, and gave it to him, the boy was confused, until she and Draco explained, to which he took it. The item was a little red scroll, tied up with a little golden ribbon.  
Harry unties the ribbon and unrolls the red parchment, once it was opened, a tiny spurt of gold and silver ‘dust’ sprang out, nearly hitting the six year old in the face, and when the dust got to a certain point, and it slowly trickled down, forming into something as it did. By the time it had landed into Harry’s hand, there was a smile on his face and Severus could see the lips moving into a form of ‘thank you’.  
Draco received his own, only instead of gold and silver dust, light blue and dark green wisps flurried out to the floor and rose up to form the object it was meant to be.  
“Pansy insisted that we did those again,” Hazel fawned at the sight.  
Severus remembered them from the many years before; they were similar to ‘bonbons’ crossed with Christmas cards that have the candy treat. The scrolls were always themed, this year the scrolls were red and gold in colour. Though he was yet to find out what the choice theme was; Severus still had the purple and white seahorse from his scroll, from the seaside theme from the year before, tucked in his office at Hogwarts.

Something else the Potions Master had noticed was how some of the other guests were side glancing Harry, almost stopping to observe this Boy-Who-Lived...  
Going with this niggling gut feeling, he stays within being able to keep sight of the boy at all times, it didn’t matter if he was with Draco and Pansy and a few of the other children who were in attendance, playing about with the small choice activities for them, while Pansy made sure the bon-bon scrolls were being passed out for each and one of the guests. Nor did it matter that this was Malfoy Manor. Severus wasn’t taking the chance.

Once Lucius and Narcissa were confident for the majority of the invited had shown, it was shortly time to start the festive party, starting with the finding of their seats; each guest had their own seat.  
To Severus’s relief, Harry was seated next to him, and was placed with the Malfoy’s head table; he suspected that this was to ensure that Harry and Draco were able to be together, and no-one was to try anything in front of Lucius and Narcissa.  
Lucius stood at his place to speak of welcome to his home, Merry Christmas, and how the day was going to be one of fun, as it always was.

“Now that we have all found our seats, I am sure you would have seen the sealed envelopes next to your name cards.”  
Severus did see the bronze envelope by his, as did Harry.  
“Inside the envelopes you will find three slips of paper, all of them containing numbers on them,” Lucius explains. “You will also discover that the papers are of different colours, I shall explain the purpose of this once you’ve opened them.”  
On this instruction, everyone opened their envelopes.  
Harry ripped his apart, looking inside before pulling the three different pieces of paper out; Draco had ripped his open, too; Severus was more careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending the chapter on a bit of a "short" as my brain frazzled up to this point.  
> I am yet to even figure how to work the numbers and coloured paper, as it's similar to that of a raffle, I think.


End file.
